Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I chuckle and shake my head. “Who do you think gave me the money to do this?” I look over at him. “He knew exactly what I was doing.”
We walk out of the door and there standing by the truck is Uncle Matthew, Uncle Max, and my father side by side, all of them arms crossed over their chests. “Fucking hell,” Casey greets, “you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Missed you, too, Casey. Or should I say, partner?” Matthew says.
“Why are you everywhere?” Casey asks him, chuckling.
“He’s like those fruit flies,” Max goads, “you think you killed him and then you look around and he’s still there.”
“It’s my charm.” He shrugs, then looks at me. “We good?”
I look back over at the company. “We’re good.”
“It was touch and go in there,” Casey shares. “Thought for sure he would do something that I would have to end up cleaning but”—Casey slaps my shoulder—“he did good.”
“Time to go home,” I decide, taking a deep inhale, “and tell Addison.”
Casey leaves us at the plane and we get in, and in twenty-five minutes I’m in the car on my way home while everyone else goes back to New York.
I pull into the driveway, looking up at the house I bought hoping I would be able to convince her to move in with me. The house I wanted to make a home in. A house that is now our home. She moved in the weekend after I asked her to. Our clothes now hang in the same closet. Picture frames are all over the house of our amazing life together. I can’t help but smile while I look over and see Addison is already home. I grab the envelope on the passenger seat, putting it in my inside pocket. When I open the driver’s door to step out, at the same time a yellow school bus pulls up in front of the house.
I walk toward the bus just in time to see Avery jump off the last step, her princess backpack bigger than her, but she insists on wearing it. She also insists on taking the bus. I’m not going to lie, I hate every single second of it, but Addison said we had to let her try it. I’m hoping that eventually she’ll get tired of it so I can drive her to school and pick her up.
“Daddy!” she shouts, running to me and jumping in my arms, knowing I’m going to catch her.
“How was your day?” I ask her, kissing her neck, and she giggles. Turning, I see Addison coming out of the front door.
“Good, I had art and I drew a picture for Grand-mère,” she replies as I walk up the steps with her in my arms.
“Hey, you two,” Addison greets us at the top of the stairs, looking down at us. I stop at the step under her, and she smiles at Avery before she leans in and kisses my lips.
“You’re home early,” she says to me, her smile makes my knees week.
“It went faster than I thought.” I put Avery down.
“Go wash your hands and put your lunchbox on the counter,” Addison tells her as she walks inside, then turns back to me. “You look like you have something you need to tell me.”
I nod my head, turning and sitting on the stoop. “I do,” I tell her, and she sits down right next to me. She puts her hand in mine. “I love you,” I remind her and she just laughs.
“I think I knew that already.” She leans in to kiss my lips. I just stare at her. “What happened?” Her hand comes up to hold my cheek.
“I did something today,” I admit, taking the envelope out of my inside pocket and hand it to her. “That’s for you.”
“What is this?” she asks, turning the white envelope over and pulling out the white paper. She unfolds it and then looks at it, gasping when she sees the top.
“A year ago, when I found you again, and found out what your family did, I started a plan.” She looks down at the paper, her hand shaking. “I didn’t know if I could actually do it, but I wanted to bury them. I wanted them to hurt just like you hurt. If not more.” She looks at me, the tears rolling down her face. “It took some time, but today I was able to bring you that.”
“I don’t understand,” she says to me, and my hand comes up to wipe her tears away.
“Well, as of this afternoon, you are the majority shareholder for Laurier Lumber,” I tell her the gist of it, “and your father is out. So is your sister and your brother.”
“But how?” she questions in a whisper. “Why?”
“Because you deserve what is yours,” I inform her. “Also, I wanted to make them pay.”