Blood Ties

Eve

The rain poured heavily around me, as if heaven was exorcising its newest demon. I wouldn’t have been surprised, really; Father belonged in the deepest part of hell—but that wasn’t something I was going to say out loud, even now that he was dead. I gripped my umbrella tighter before the wind could snatch it from me.

The priest, along with everyone else, talked about what a good man Father was. They spoke of his large heart and how he was a pillar in the community. Clearly, none of them had ever lived with him, not even for a day; those of us who did were only too relieved that he was gone. But, like a good daughter, I forced rivers of tears down my face and stayed under that blasted rain long enough for everyone to believe that I genuinely didn’t want my father gone.

My phone buzzed in my jacket, and I answered it without looking at the screen.

“Are we going to do this or what?” Lauren, my younger sister, asked.

“I’ll be there in a moment. You—”

She hung up.

I felt a burst of anger, but I closed my eyes and allowed the wind to take it away. There was no point, really, just as there had never been any point in showing any emotion all my life. As the eldest Carlisle daughter, I had always been expected to be the epitome of decorum. Father fancied himself a king, so I was expected to behave like a princess, and I did. Whatever emotions I felt, whatever opinions I had, stayed only in my head. To the world, I was the perfect daughter; to Father, I was a lapdog; to Lauren, I was a spineless piece of nothing.

When Father died, my only fear was seeing Lauren again after eight years. Then again, I told myself she wouldn’t come; no one hated Father like she did, but guess who showed up yesterday as if she were just coming home from summer vacation. I panicked, hid in my room until this morning, and there hadn’t been any need for me to talk to her since then. But I could only hide for so long.

I turned to walk back to the waiting car. This graveyard wasn’t going to see me again.

“Take me home, Eddie,” I said to the driver, leaning back into the leather seat and just enjoying the rain through the window. This might very well be the last time I experienced peace for a while.

Why did Lauren have to come back? It wasn’t as if she even cared for Father. She never bothered to reply to any of my texts when I told her he was sick, never answered or returned any of my calls in all these years. Nothing. There was absolutely nothing from her. When I sent her a text saying he was dead, I got radio silence. Why did she bother to show up for the burial?

The inheritance, you dimwit.

Even then, Father didn’t leave her anything. He hated her just as much as she hated him, perhaps a lot more; there was absolutely no way he would have left her anything.

Was there?

The car drove in through the iron gates, and in seven minutes, we were in front of the house.

Carlisle House.

This house had seen the worst of the worst, but there it stood, tall and grand and unwavering amidst all the chaos.

I hurried up the steps, feeling more anxious with each passing second.

“Welcome home, Ms. Eve,” Anna, the housekeeper, greeted me at the door. “Your sisters are waiting in the study.”

“Is Bernard here?” I asked, running up the steps when all I wanted to do was run away.

“Yes, ma’am. Arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you, Anna. Have some refreshments sent up, will you?”

“Right away, ma’am.”

I should have gone to my room first. I should have taken the time to fortify myself before coming here—at the very least, changed out of those wet clothes. But I pushed open the door before I had the chance to run away like a coward.

Bernard Dunbar, my father’s lawyer, stood behind my father’s big, oak desk, feeling very much at home.

Ballsy, this one.

Even I felt… off about being in there without my father’s permission, but someone else, a total stranger at that, seemed comfortable sitting in the old man's chair. It was things like this that could bring the dead back to life. We shouldn’t even have been in there; there were other rooms in this house where we could have had this meeting. This had Lauren written all over it.

“Ms. Carlisle.” Bernard stretched his hand to me, still standing where he was, so I had to cover the distance to shake it. There was everything wrong with this, but like a good girl, I didn’t make a fuss. There really was no big deal.

“Mr. Dunbar,” I said with a perfect smile, “it’s lovely to see you again, although I wish it were under different circumstances.” I could almost hear Lauren’s eyes roll.

“We all have to die at some point.” He shrugged. “Please, sit. Let’s begin.”

This man was a guest in my house, not the other way around.

“Of course,” I said and took a seat on a couch, beside Samantha, my youngest sister. Unfortunately, it put me in Lauren’s line of sight.

“Well,” Bernard cleared his throat, “it says here: ‘To Samantha, I leave the houses in England and Paris, since you love them so much. To Evelyn, I leave the house, the company, and all associated businesses as well as my other properties.’”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It was only natural for him to leave everything to me; I’d worked for this all my life.

“However,” Bernard continued, “you have to get married within a stipulated timeframe, and to a man of my choosing.”

“What?”

“I would have left this task up to you,” Bernard continued as if he hadn’t heard me, “but you might get carried away with other things and forget the things that actually matter. A woman’s place is behind her husband, bearing kids and supporting him. Upon marriage, control of Carlisle Holdings will be transferred to your husband so you can focus on your family, while you get to keep the properties. For this reason, I have gone through the pains of picking out the best man for the job; I won’t have just any scoundrel running my ship. Failure to adhere to these terms would lead to the loss of all your inheritance, including the properties you would have kept otherwise. Everything you’ve worked for thus far would go to Lauren, and we don’t want that, do we? Bernard actually looked up at me then, and Lauren scoffed. “However,” he continued, “I trust you to make the wise decision as you’ve always been rational and sensible.”

No.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

How in the world…

How the hell was this even happening?

There was a ringing in my head, and my heart was beating so fast I felt like it would explode at any moment.

“Is that all?” Lauren asked. She looked calm—why did she look calm? Why did anyone look calm? Could they not understand what was happening right now? Even from the grave, Father still found a way to pull the strings on my life. How was this happening?

“Um…” Bernard started, then flipped the page. His face told us that there was more. “Yes, Ms. Lauren. That’s all.”

“Come now,” she laughed, “Father would have left at least a matchstick to me.”

Was she kidding me right now? She should be grateful he didn’t disown her altogether.

“Well,” Bernard looked around the room and sighed deeply. “It says: ‘To Lauren, I hope you go to hell; that’s where you came from after all.’”

There was a pin-drop silence.

What the actual hell?

“At least he left last words,” she said stiffly before leaving the study.

“I’m really sorry—”

“Thank you,” I managed to say over the roaring in my head. “Mr. Dunbar, you can leave now.” My back remained straight but my hands were balled into tight fists. I could have punched Father if he stood right there.

Get real.

He looked shocked, but he could never have been as shocked as I was. Ms. Evelyn ‘Proper and Polite’ Carlisle. Lordy lord, who would have thought?

“Of course.” He cleared his throat again before packing up his suitcase, then he left the room.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my heartbeat, trying to breathe, and somehow, Samantha’s voice cut through my thoughts like a hot knife through butter. She was humming, tapping her toes to a beat with her eyes closed, lost in that unseen world of hers.

Samantha worried me, I wouldn’t lie. The youngest of the Carlisle sisters, she was somewhat of an enigma. I remembered her being a bundle of joy when she was a child, a firecracker, pulsing with energy, then it all changed. I didn’t know when exactly; I was too busy trying to survive under my father’s thumb that I completely forgot about her, and by the time I remembered, all I found was this shell of a woman who only hummed and painted, occasionally filling the house with daunting notes on the piano or the violin, but barely spoke.

“Are you alright?” I asked, just because I wanted to say something to her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She replied with her eyes closed, and I was surprised, yet again, at how grown she sounded. When did that happen? “I’ve just inherited two houses, haven’t I?” Could have fooled me. “I’ll be in my room,” she added before getting up to leave the study.

And I was all alone.

No surprise there, really—I had always been alone. I couldn’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t feel this way. Not when Mother was alive, not even with two sisters. Everyone had been too busy trying to survive the plague that was Richard Carlisle III. It had always been unfair to expect anyone to care for me.

I looked around the study again—my study. Well, at least until I married the man Father had chosen for me. That was something I needed to do something about. The bastard couldn’t even let me enjoy his death for a single day before trying to ruin it for me.

With a sigh, I left the study and almost ran into Anna at the door.

“Dinner’s ready, ma’am.”

“Already?” I frowned at my wristwatch.

Damn it.

I had really been looking forward to some time alone.

Anticipating my response, Anna added, “Your sisters are all seated.”

“I guess there’s no way around that now, is there?”

When I would have walked past her, she laid a hand on my arm. “I know it’s not my place to offer advice, Ms. Eve, but this is your chance to get to know your sisters. You girls are no different than strangers as it is, and I blame…” She cleared her throat and straightened her back. “Just make use of this time, no matter how short it is. You three are all you have now.”

A million things ran through my mind to say to her, but in the end, I just said, “Thank you,” and walked away. I wouldn’t lie—it felt odd to be anything but formal with Anna. She certainly would have never tried this when my father was around. Then again, it had been a crime to breathe when he was around. I didn’t know if it was a bad or good sign that she would do this now.

I reached downstairs to find my sisters had already started dinner without me.

You should have just gone to your room, Eve.

“Oh, hey, sis,” Lauren said with a smile that was too bright to be real. “We didn’t think you’d join us, what with you being the new head of the family and all.” She took a spoonful of food as I made my way to the empty chair at the head of the table.

I had barely settled in before she added, “Feels nice, doesn’t it? Sitting there. Then again, it won’t be for long, will it? What do you think he’ll be like, this man Father chose for you? Hmm? You know, I thought about it, and I’m not so angry anymore that Father didn’t leave me anything. I’d rather have what I have now than have what you have.”

Take deep breaths, Eve. Don’t let her get under your skin.

We ate in silence for a while, only accompanied by the sound of cutlery against ceramics. I didn’t even feel like eating anymore, but I couldn’t let her win.

“You know,” Lauren started again, looking at Samantha, who was entirely focused on her meal, “our new brother could just be an upgraded version of Father. How long do you think Evie will last before she lucks out like Mum did?”

“Lauren!” I slammed my hands on the table. “That’s enough from you.”

The shock was quick but fleeting. A slow smile curved across her face. “My, my, you’re settling into your role pretty quickly, Evie. You sound just like dear old Dad.”

“Leave her alone,” Samantha murmured, eyes still on her food.

“Aww, look,” Lauren cooed, “the little mouse can squeak.”

“Why do you always have to be a bitch?” I snapped. “Why do you always have to be unbearable? This is why you and Father never got along—because you’re just like him. What? What is it this time? Huh? If you hate us so much, why did you bother coming back? Lord knows we could use a little peace and quiet now that he’s gone.”

“Of course, blame me for all your problems. I’m the only one who ever stood up to Dad. Hell, I fought for you. I fought for the both of you. What did you ever do? Sit back and kiss his old, smelly ass. And now, he’s gone ahead and arranged your marriage for you, and I know full well that you’re going to go ahead and agree to it, even though you don’t have to, even though you can walk away from all of this. But we all know what’s going to happen. You know damn well that you can keep that bastard from coming in here and ruining what’s left of our lives, but you’re not going to because you’re a weak bitch.”

I let the silence stretch between us, forcing myself to take deep breaths instead of bashing her head against the wall— besides, even if I wanted to, years and years of training wouldn’t let me. Samantha seemed oblivious to what was happening, keeping her attention on her meal. Then again, who could tell with her?

“Are you finished?”  I asked as calmly as I could.

“Not really,” Lauren shrugged, “but my advice is wasted on you.”

“Great. Now let us have our dinner in peace.”

“You know—”

“You’re excused, Lauren,” I said, looking her straight in the eyes.

Her face remained blank for a moment, and I dared her to fight me. And to my surprise, she got to her feet.

“Father must be so proud of you,” she said before stomping out and up the stairs.

Normally, a child would be excited when told their parent would be proud of them, but everyone at that table knew it was the worst insult any of us could have received.

I sagged in my seat.

This was going to be a long ride.