Played: Manhattan Ruthless - 6

Chapter

Five

G rampa stares at the keys dangling from my index finger, his face lit up with hope. Amanda stands beside me, hands clasped together as she lets out a squeal of delight. She has been an angel since I met with Drake’s realtor yesterday. In less than twenty-four hours, she finished coordinating with Grampa’s doctor to get all of the equipment he needs in place. The apartment came fully furnished, so it’s ready to go.

“Are you coming home with me then, old man?” I ask, grinning.

“You got an apartment?”

“I told you I would, didn’t I?”

“Right here? In New York?”

I nod. “Here in New York. Two bedrooms, fully furnished. Now get your ass out of bed and let’s go.”

His cackle fills the room, making both me and Amanda smile. Nurse Hector brings in a wheelchair, and I help Grampa into it while Amanda packs his belongings in a bright pink sparkly suitcase she borrowed from her sister.

“You’re really putting my prized worldly possessions in that monstrosity?” Grampa snorts.

“It was the best we could do on short notice. Quit your whining,” Amanda tells him.

He flashes me a wicked grin. “It looks like a unicorn ate a tube of glitter and threw it back up again.”

I nod my agreement and offer him a cheeky wink while vocalizing that he shouldn’t be so ungrateful.

“I think it brings a little pizzazz to the proceedings,” Amanda says as she zips it up. “Makes you look young and edgy, Arthur.”

That earns her a loud guffaw. “Then it stays.”

He nudges me in the ribs when I lean down to tuck his blanket around his legs. “You hear that? She said I’m young and edgy.”

“Pretty sure she said the suitcase was, Grampa.” I straighten and look around one last time. “I’ll come back for the rest of your stuff tomorrow, okay?”

His excitement to get out of here is evident in his eager agreement, and I wheel him down the hallway. On our way out the door, all the staff on duty stop to wish him well and tell him how much they’ll miss him. He’s an easy guy to like, my Grampa.

“Are we getting to the new place on your motorcycle, King?” He sounds like a little kid begging to go on his first rollercoaster.

“I think we’ll take an Uber,” I answer apologetically.

“You could attach this thing like a sidecar.” He slaps his palms on the armrests of his wheelchair and chuckles. “Have Amanda ride pillion.”

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” I exclaim, dramatically smacking my forehead. “I went and left my bike back at the apartment. Dammit!”

His laugh grows louder, and Amanda shoots me a warm smile.

And I enjoy the moment while it lasts.

The Uber pulls up outside the apartment building and I help my grandfather out of the car while the driver takes his chair and suitcase from the trunk.

“Wow! This place looks nice, kid.” Grampa whistles, eyes wide. It’s a nice red brick apartment complex with a small playground and a parking lot big enough for fifty cars. A space comes with the apartment too, so I have somewhere for my bike. “You did good.”

“Yeah, I did,” I agree, helping him into his chair.

Amanda wheels the suitcase. “Shall I take this inside?”

“I can handle it. It’s heavy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I can lift Arthur here in and out of bed without getting winded. I’m sure I can handle a suitcase. On wheels.”

Grampa laughs and nudges my leg. “She’s a firecracker, that one. You better watch her, King.”

I hand her the keys and let her go on ahead while I thank the driver. Grampa’s scanning the street when we’re approached by a woman with long blond hair and a little girl of about three attached to her leg. “You must be the new tenant.”

I tell her that I am, and she introduces herself as the super’s wife and tells me to holler if we need anything. Her little girl waves at me as they walk into the building, and a man shouting behind me grabs my attention.

I spin around to find my father shaking his fist in Grampa’s face. “You deceitful, spiteful, ungrateful fuck!”

Outraged, I grab him by the collar and shove him away. “Who the fuck do you think you are speaking to him like that?”

Grampa is shaking in his chair, and we’re drawing attention from passersby. Kyngston Worthington III, respectable Wall Street banker and advocate of good old-fashioned family values can’t have that.

“You haven’t heard the last of this.” He points a finger in my direction and climbs into a waiting car. It drives away, leaving Grampa and I staring after it, wondering what the hell just happened.

Amanda comes out of the apartment building and blows a strand of hair from her face, her cheeks flushed pink. Thankfully, she didn’t witness my father’s outburst, but she sees the aftermath: Grampa still trembling with fear and me with rage. I should drive after the heartless prick and smash his face in.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

I squeeze Grampa’s hand in mine and run a soothing hand over his shoulder. “Everything’s okay,” I reassure them both. “Let’s get you inside.”

After Amanda and I finish fixing his room, she heads to the deli on the corner to get us some sandwiches for lunch, which she assures me are to die for. Her aunt lives a few blocks away, and she knows the area pretty well, which is good for Grampa and me.

I hand Grampa a mug of his favorite English breakfast tea and perch on the arm of the couch beside his oversized armchair. “All right, Grampa,” I say, keeping my tone light. “Time to tell me what the hell is going on.” He’s still pretty shaken, and I don’t want to upset him any more than he already has been, but he’s hiding something from me.

“Can’t we just leave it, King? I’m here now. With you. That’s all that matters.”

I angle my body so that I’m facing him. “Why did my father react the way he did? I’ve never seen him lose his temper like that in public before. If something is going on that affects you, then it matters. Please don’t keep me in the dark.”

His deep-green eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t want to manipulate you. I didn’t mean to.” A tear runs down his cheek.

I give his knee a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have a manipulative bone in your body, old goat. But you gotta tell me what’s going on.”

He nods, swallowing hard. “Your parents found out about the will. I don’t know how. No doubt that shark of a lawyer they have.”

That explains Reese’s presence the other night, but not much else. “Your will?”

“No. Your grandma’s will.” His eyes sparkle when he talks about her. They always do. Both my parents came from money, but in my mom’s case, that money came from her mom. She died when I was a baby, and although I feel like I know her from the way Grampa kept her memory alive, I have none of my own memories of her.

They adored each other, my grandparents. I used to wonder what my life would have been like if she’d been alive while I was growing up. Grampa was deemed too unwell to take care of me permanently, but I used to fantasize about living with them in their Long Island house rather than the prison of my parent’s home. When Grandma died, Grampa lived a modest if comfortable life. I remember hearing my father grumble about her missing millions, but it never meant anything to me. He grumbled about a lot of things.

“What about grandma’s will?” I ask. “Wouldn’t that have all been taken care of years ago?”

His face lights up. “Your grandma was a smart woman, King. And she knew I’d never spend all her money. It wasn’t mine to spend, you see.”

“So … You have money?” I ask, shaking my head. “Grandma’s money? That’s what all this is about?”

He nods. “A little over twenty-five million, I think. My financial guy invests and such, but I don’t keep much of an eye on it.”

Wow! The old goat has twenty-five million sitting in a bank somewhere. But what good has it done him? I wish he’d spent more and enjoyed it. Then again, Grampa has always been the type to prefer lemonade on a beach over champagne on a yacht.

“But doesn’t it all go to Mother anyway?” I recall hearing her and my father discussing his will once, when he was suffering from a serious case of pneumonia. Tasteless, much like every other thing about them.

He looks around surreptitiously, a knowing smile on his face. “That’s one part of the will. Not the secret clause, which will only be read upon my death. In my will.”

“A secret clause?”

He nods. “I can’t change even if I wanted to. Your mom will get the million dollars that your grandma earmarked for her, but as for everything else, she only gets that on the event …” He screws his eyes closed.

“On the event of what, Grampa?”

His eyes are full of tears when he reopens them. “My Josephine was such a caring woman, you see. She knew I’d always have my health battles. Heck, I’m sure she’d be surprised I lasted to the ripe old age of seventy-nine.”

I squeeze his knee again. “Grampa?”

He sucks in a breath. “Your grandma’s clause states that the family member who looks after me at the end gets the money. Your parents must have found out because when they visited last week, they insisted that I would be coming to live with them. They were all fake smiles and polished words. I saw right through them, but, well, what was I going to do with all that money when I’m gone? So I agreed.” He places his gnarled hand over mine. “I’m sorry, King. And of course I’ve already provided for you, my boy. You know that, right?”

In all honesty, I never gave it much thought. I haven’t requested a penny from my family since I left, and I assumed my parents would find a way to cut me out of Grampa’s will. “I don’t care about your money.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“So, what? You agreed to go stay with them? Was that your plan until I showed up?”

“You showing up was my only plan, King. I’m sorry.” Tears run down his face once more.

“What do you mean?” Then it falls into place. My father kindly asking me to move back. Mother saying she wanted me to come home. Reese acting happy to see me. “You told them you’d only move back there if I came too.”

He nods sadly. “I … I thought they’d find a way to make me move in with them anyway. Have me declared mentally unfit or something. I didn’t intend for you to upend your whole life in Chicago and get a place of your own in New York. I know I don’t have long, so I thought you might be able to tolerate it for a few weeks. Because the only thing that could have made living with your parents bearable would have been to have you there. I’m sorry, son.”

I wrap my arms around him, filled with regret and guilt that I haven’t been there for him the way he always was for me. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything, Grampa. I’m glad you got me back here. I wouldn’t change this for anything.”

He sniffs. “You wouldn’t?”

“No. Being able to spend this time together, just you and me—that’s the best gift anyone could have ever given me. I’ll take that over twenty-five million any day.”

He laughs and pats the back of my head, and I release him from my embrace. “Well, now you’ll get both.”

“You coming to live with me means he doesn’t get the money? That’s why he turned up here so pissed!”

“Exactly.”

Well, fuck me. Pissing my parents off to the tune of twenty-five million dollars is the cherry on top of an already great day.