Dollars - Page 46/88

I fucking hated it.

My brain scrambled to catch up from talking to a fellow cellist, finding out he understood what lurked inside me—now, he wanted to expose yet more revelations?

Liquor suddenly held allure as did the pull of a joint.

Doing my best to keep my voice calm and disinterested, I drawled, “Tell me what?”

His gaze darted to the bathroom, obviously wanting to finish this heart to heart before the women returned. “I might not be the king, but I have access to everything my second cousin does—including the best private investigators. When my wife and I decided to purchase a yacht, we were meticulous in our research. Your company and product are second to none, but I would never have done business with you based on your reputation and dealings with men who are corrupt beyond comprehension.”

I smiled, but it wasn’t the cold boastful smile I’d perfected when dealing with criminals—it bordered the man I’d been. “Normally, that’s why business seeks me out.”

“I figured as much.” He lowered his voice. “But that’s what turned us away. The royal family can’t be seen to be dealing with murderers and thieves.”

I hid my scowl.

What would you say if you knew I was a thief?

“So what changed your mind?” I asked.

“Your past.”

“My past?” My voice snapped. “What about my past?”

Rubbing his callused fingers together, he said, “We are about the same age. I started playing the cello when I was eight, and the music community was small. The world is not a large place when the love of something draws us together.”

Once again, memories that had no right to hurt me tried to swarm.

My mother bought me my first cello lesson when I was four. I’d cried when it was over because I never wanted it to end. The next week, my father borrowed money from our neighbours to buy a second-hand cello, so I could play and play and never fucking stop.

The strings. The frets. The music.

Shit, the notes I could create—it gave me purpose. I’d never been so drawn or so addicted. That was the beginning of the end for me. I’d cursed my entire family because of it.

Simo’s voice blew away the recollection. “As I worked through my levels, a name kept being mentioned. A boy who played until his fingers bled. A boy who would strum for two days straight until he’d mastered a song he’d only just heard on the radio rather than sheet music given by a teacher.”

I shot upright. “I’ve heard enough.”

Simo didn’t stop. “My parents would use him as an example if I grew bored of practice. They would say ‘why can’t you be more like him?’ Whether he knew it or not, he became widely recognised for being the best. Until his ‘death,’ of course.”

I bared my teeth like a cornered animal.

Motherfucking shit.

I paced away from the table, glaring at him. “Quit while you’re ahead. I’m done talking about this.”

His shoulders tensed as if to blurt everything I’d tried to keep hidden, everything I’d covered up, but footsteps sounded behind me, signalling our time together was over.

Thank Christ.

Relaxing, he smiled. “I don’t know what happened or why that prodigy vanished, but I do know your true name, Elder Prest. I know the real man beneath the rumours. That is the man I hired to build my yacht. A man who has been called obsessive, a perfectionist. A man who can’t let something go until he rules it. I hired you because I want to keep my family safe, and no one will do a better job because you have no choice but to deliver excellence.”

He kissed his daughter’s head, standing upright with her small body in his arms. “That is the man worthy of being possessed by either country or woman—not someone who should be alone.”

His voice rang in my head.

He knows my true name?

I hadn’t let myself remember for so long. As far as I was concerned, I had no other name. I had no other life—no other existence before this one.

My skin crawled to leave.

Dina appeared, heading to her husband and children. “The discussions are over so soon?”

“Yes.” I didn’t look at her, scooping my phone and notepad off the table and tucking them into my trouser pockets. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear.” I glowered at Simo.

He looked back with a respectful nod rather than taunting glint. He hadn’t told me he knew who I was to intimidate me. I didn’t know why he had. But stupidly, I trusted him not to blab.

If I didn’t trust him, he wouldn’t be walking out of this restaurant. Bodyguards or royal blood be damned.

Pim drifted to my side, her gaze locked on my face. She tilted her head, sucking on her bottom lip as if she understood the turbulent anger corroding me.

She could fucking look.

But until she told me her secrets, she wouldn’t be earning mine.

Simo hoisted his daughter to his hip, holding out his hand. “It was nice talking to you, Elder. We should share our love of music again sometime.”

I snorted, unwillingly shaking his palm. “There won’t be a next time.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled. “But you will email over the new blueprints once the amendments have been drawn up?”

I straightened my back. “After everything you just revealed about me, do you doubt it?”

The little boy, jealous of his sister in his father’s arms, wrapped his arms around Dina’s leg, blinking sleepily.