Trapped in his End Game (Series)

The door closes behind me, shutting me into my apartment.

Finally. This day is over. Finally.

Mom and Nathan wanted me to stay over Dad’s house for longer, but I had to tear myself away as soon as I could.

I’m just exhausted.

In the middle of my dark apartment, my shoulders slump. I kick off the aching black pumps and walk barefooted into my bathroom, stripping off my clothes as if they’re bandages wrapped around wounds. My whole body feels sore.

It was a horrible day, but at least it’s over.

I kick my pile of black clothes to the side as I open the giant glass door to my shower and yank on the handle. All six showerheads blast water in multiple directions, taking only seconds to heat. My feet curl on the rough surface of the shower floor. I designed the whole apartment when I turned twenty and when Dad’s trusts came through.

Ever since then, I felt like my nose was ground against the cement floor every day. I have all this money, but I don’t feel like I’ve earned it. Every moment was spent preparing to work in Dad’s business. I never traveled. I don’t have friends. Boyfriends? Forget about it. Between learning Dad’s business and Nathan’s overbearing nature, I never had time. Oh sure, I had a few in college, but they fizzled out like duds of fireworks.

Frankly, I’ve never been happy.

It feels so stupid to say it out loud. So incredibly selfish. According to the rest of the world, I don’t deserve to be unhappy. I’m an ungrateful, whiny, rich girl.

But when I try to think about what I want, my mind draws a blank.

Well, there was that hot guy at the funeral. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him, that’s for sure. He was just so handsome. My skin heats up just thinking about how hot he looked in that suit, and how I felt warm all over when his hands gripped mine.

Jesus, listen to me. Lusting after a guy I met at Dad’s funeral.

After a half-hour waste of water, I shut off the streams and grab the fluffy, white towels hanging around the rack. I sigh as I wrap them around my waist and hair, looking in the mirror at my petite reflection. There’s something about being clean that makes everything feel better.

I’m settled into my pajamas, but there’s a hollow feeling in my stomach that has nothing to do with food. There are photos of him all over my apartment. Every time I see one, it’s like a punch to my stomach. I pick up a photo of all of us: Mom, Dad, Nathan, Jess, and me. They weren’t together for very long. The few memories I have of them together were filled with fights so loud that they shook the walls. When we divorced, Dad got custody of us. I’m not sure whether she really wanted kids. She just wanted the lifestyle.

Anger runs through the photo and up my arm. She just left us-left Jessica and I to fend for ourselves. I played Mom and tried to keep the peace in the house between all the siblings. I’m still doing that.

I slump into my couch in a sort of exhausted, dead haze. The phone sitting on my end table flashes with Nathan’s name. What the hell could he want now?

Picking up the phone, I place it against my ear. “Hi. What is it?”

Translation: What the hell do you want?

“Hey, Marisa. Listen, Jess and I were wondering when you wanted to visit Dad’s attorney to read his will.”

Not even a day has gone by.

“God, Nathan. Couldn’t this wait a week? His funeral was today.”

“Marisa, I know that,” he says in a carefully controlled voice. “But we can’t wait a week. Dad’s company needs our attention now. If you want to take a couple weeks off, fine, but at least come with us to the attorney’s office so we can get this out of the way.”

I stand up from the couch and pace back and forth in front of the television, shaking my head. The heat in my chest makes me want to hurl the phone into the brick fireplace.

“There’s something seriously wrong with both of you.”

Nathan sucks in breath and even I’m a little surprised at my tone. I never, ever snap at my brother. I never show him that I’m angry. It’s just easier to shove my feelings aside and try to get along.

You need to get along with your brother, Marisa. He’s your brother.

I shake my head.

“What is your problem? I am trying to make this transition as smooth as possible.”

“Our dad just died, and all everyone seems to care about is what’ll happen to the goddamn company.”

Once again, I have to swallow my surprise. I’m never this open with people, even my own brother. The more I snap at him, the angrier I get. I’m ready to seize a mug and throw it at the wall. Fuck him. Fuck Jessica.

“Yeah, I do care about the company. I’ve only spent half my life invested in it. Dad’s dead, and it sucks, but I’m not going to let his company go to shit because you’re a weakling. Grow up, Marisa. We’re meeting there at four on Friday, with or without you.”

There’s the Nathan I remember.

He ends the phone call before I can scream back at him. My arm swings and I throw the phone into the couch’s cushions. Christ, I don’t know why I’m so angry.

My eye catches another framed photo of my dad and my throat thickens with tears.

Yes, you do.

* * *

The bars from the Brooklyn Bridge cast long, narrow black shadows on my younger sister’s face. They scan her face and whip off. I adjust my sunglasses as the sun’s glare beams right into the windshield, blinding us both. I think about all the times my dad and I used to walk Brooklyn Bridge. He was such an active man. All day, he was constantly moving.

“As soon as my money comes through, I’m going to get a bigger apartment.” Jessica offers me a gum-popping, wide smile. “Don’t you think I should?”

I jerk my head to the side as I grip the steering wheel. “I think you’re twenty-three and you should save your money for more important things.”

Despite there being only a few years of difference in age between us, I’ve always felt so much older than her.

Jessica rolls her thickly outlined eyes at me and kicks out her leopard-printed legs. “Ugh, I forgot how boring you are.”

I ignore the sizzle of heat inside my chest. “Jess, you shouldn’t talk to me like that. I’m your sister. Dad would’ve wanted us to get along.”

“Oh, please. Daddy never cared about anything but his stupid work. What good did it do to him, in the end?”

My face flushes suddenly and my fingers whiten on my steering wheel.

“He accomplished a lot in his lifetime. More than you or I ever will.”

“Yeah, he ignored his kids and wife, who he later divorced. He may have been successful at work, but he failed when it came to his family life.”

Her words gall me so fucking much. “That is not true.”

“Whatever,” she smirks bitterly, looking out the window. “He never came to one damn soccer practice, or dance recital, or play, or anything.”

“No, he was too busy working hard to make sure that you could participate in all of those things. So you can buy your fucking mansion in the Hamptons or whatever the hell it is you want now.” I shake my head at her. “Speaking ill of a dead person is a new low for you.”

She gives me a malicious look with her overlarge eyes.

Goddamn spoiled brat.

At least I can count my lucky stars that I’m not like either of them.

I pull into the parking lot of the lawyer’s office, a small nondescript building. Nathan’s blond head gleams in the sun as he stands outside, arms crossed, waiting for us.

“You’re late,” he says in greeting as we step out of the car.

I shrug my purse over my shoulder. “Someone couldn’t decide what jacket to wear.”

She tosses her honey-blonde hair over her shoulder and gives me a flippant shrug. “Whatever.”

“Whatever” is her constant refrain.

Our shoes scuff on the cement as we make our way to the doors, my blood rushing to my head. It gets worse when the receptionist greets us cheerily behind the desk and gets up right away.

“Mr. Pierce has been expecting you. Right this way.”

She leads us into a dark, mahogany office with three chairs. Mr. Pierce is a bespectacled old man with a kind, open face. He gets up from behind the desk and shakes all of our hands, giving me a warm smile. It feels genuine, unlike most of dad’s associates.

“Good to meet you.”

My breath is frozen in my lungs and all I can manage is a squeak. Nathan glares at me. He was always so touchy about manners. There are two seats in the front, which Nathan and I take. Jessica takes a seat behind us.

“Right, well. Mr. Toffoli has indicated to me that you all have limited time, so I’ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible.” He sits back down behind the desk and picks up a sheaf of paper. “Your father gave me a letter accompanying the last will and testament to explain why he made his choices.”

Beside me, I hear Nathan straighten in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” He balls his fist in front of his mouth and gives a mighty cough. “You’ll need to sign here.”

We pass around the document to sign, Nathan squirming in his seat as the old man goes through all the procedures.

He begins reading the will, most of it a chain of legalese that I can barely decipher. “I appoint Marisa Toffoli as the new Chief Executive Officer and majority owner of Worlds Casino with a few conditions. If she performs poorly or violates her contract, the shares will be divided amongst her siblings. I bequeath 60% of my company’s shares to Marisa. For my children, Nathaniel and Jessica Toffoli, I leave them each 20% of my shares.”

Holy fucking hell. He named me CEO. Not my older brother who charms and impresses everyone. Me.

He also gave me most of the shares.

A wave of shock slams into me like a huge tidal wave. This can’t be real.

I feel Nathan’s apoplectic rage next to me and I have a strong, bizarre desire to laugh.

What a steaming pile of shit you gave me, Dad.

I can’t even look at Nathan. My face burns so hot that I’m sure I look like a bright red fruit. I flinch when I hear him speak. His voice is thick with rage.

“What?”

Poor Mr. Pierce looks flustered under Nathan’s bright glare. “It’s right here in his will. Would you like me to read the letter?”

“Are you sure you read it right? Let me see it!” He leans forward and snatches it out of Mr. Pierce’s hand and reads it. His long, blond eyebrows narrow as he reads further. Jessica leans in and looks behind her shoulder, her normally sallow face twisted in sadistic pleasure.

“Oh, snap. He really did it.”

I’m horrified by her tone. “Jessica.”

“What?”

Nathan’s hot gaze glances over the paper to look at me. It’s terrifying. Ugliness twists his face as he glares at me in disgust.

“What did you do to him?” he snarls.

“Nothing,” I say vehemently, appalled by the look on his face. “I had no idea about this. I always thought that you would be the one to inherit his company. Everyone did.”Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

But Nathan doesn’t believe me. The will crumples in his fist. “Did you go behind my back? What the fuck is this, Marisa?”

“L-listen. Why don’t we all settle down and I can read the letter. Maybe it can help shed some light-”

Somewhere behind my shock I feel a ripple of anger. So I would’ve had to con Dad into changing his mind? I’m not good enough to lead the company?

“I didn’t go behind your back. I would not do that!”

Our heads snap towards Mr. Pierce as he begins to talk. “Dear Nathaniel, Jessica, and Marisa. I know that my decision might come as a bit of a shock, but it has come to my attention within the last few years that Marisa possesses all the qualities that the company needs in a leader: fairness, decisiveness, integrity, experience, and compassion. She has proved her dedication to our family’s legacy. She is not only a natural leader, but also a great manager.

“To Nathaniel, I know this must be extremely disappointing, but please keep in mind that this was an excruciating decision I had to make, and it was a decision I made with great care. You’re a very bright, passionate young man, but I think that you lack the ability to develop close relationships with others. I worry that I’ve failed you, because you seem to lack the interpersonal warmth that I expect from my leaders. Coworkers have reported to me that you tend to be cold, and the person who leads this company cannot be cold. Your strengths lie in your ability to execute complex tasks, and I just believe that Marisa would be better suited in a managerial position-”

“That is such bullshit!” He stands up and pounds the desk in front of him with his fist.

Holy crap.

My heart pounds in my throat. It wasn’t pleasant to see Nathan’s reaction as Mr. Pierce read Dad’s words, but at the same time I feel a small thrill of triumph. Dad saw through Nathan after all. He saw behind the pomp and the nice face and saw the ugliness inside.

“Nathan, calm down.”

He whirls on me, lashing out like a maniac. “Don’t you fucking dare. I know you had something to do with this.”

How the fuck can he think like that?

His lips shake as he points an accusing finger at me, his hair trembling around his face.

“You’re out of your damn mind.”

“Who taught you everything about the business? Who set you up with your first clients? I’ve been in this for at least two years longer than you. How the fuck could he pick you over me?”

Red-faced and angry, I search inside myself. Did I ever really expect Dad to hand the company over to me? No, but now that I think about it, maybe I do deserve it. I’m just as capable as he is, and Dad knew it.

Jessica looks at both of us with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the fight.

“This-this is really out of hand. Your father had his reasons-”

“Bullshit!”

Mr. Pierce almost drops his glasses. “Young man, there’s really no need for cursing in this office.”

“I don’t care!” He turns back towards me, his eyes blazing. “You better watch your fucking back. Every wrong move you make, I’ll be watching. I’m still a member of the board.”

The knife in my chest twists. He looks scary. I’ve never seen him so enraged. It reminds me when he was a child and how he would scream and punch and hurt until he got his way. “Nathan, come on!”

He doesn’t wait for another second. Nathan storms out of the office, leaving behind Jess, me, and the stuttering Mr. Pierce.

“Dear me,” he says, clutching his chest.

“Fuck.”

Thanks a lot, Dad.