The Tycoon's Daughter: A Bitter Inheritance

ernous and cold, a sterile landscape of white marble, gleaming steel, and enormous, abstract paintings that looked ang

ass that overlooked a vast, sculpted garden. As I got closer, I could see they were young,

ish bob. She wore a simple black dress that probably cost more than my mother made in a year. Her eyes, a s

in looks. He had the same dark hair but his was messy, falling into his eyes. He was handsome in a

en of Richard Thomps

said. Her voice was as coo

y worn backpack, my knuck

muttered, not looking at me

limate control. I felt an insane urge to try and bridge the gap, to show them I

eeling stupid and hollow. They weren' t my family. T

humorless laugh. "Do

is eyes were cold. "The rules are simple. You exist here, but you don' t bother us. You go to school, you get your degree, and the

I repeate

urling slightly. "The one you' ll be going back to.

er heels clicking sharply on the marble. Ben follo

but it was clearly designated as "other." I memorized their schedules. Emily, the fashion designer, worked late in her studio in the east wing. Ben, the softwar

ible. The one time I accidentally left a cheap paperback novel on a coffee table in the main living area, I

e we were forced into close proximity. I came

us," Emily announce

driving, and Ben was in the passenger seat, headphones on, completely tuned out. I was wearing my best pair of jeans and

curb, and I reached

ing?" Emily aske

ting

e. We' ll

ulled into a back alley behind

we got in the car, a knot of anxiety in my stomach,

ack of their heads, "I can just rid

esperate. I wanted to take them back, to

, there was