Playing The Game - Book Four in The WSU Series

- Chapter One -

"Bliss? We have to go!"

I close my book before heading downstairs to see the boys waiting by the door. "I'm here," I speak carefully as I grab my jacket from the coat rack. "Gomez is going to kill us," Hayden groans as he grabs his coat.

"I'll drive," Roma throws the car keys to Alex, "I'll follow you." The three of them exchange a look before heading out the front door. "Are you not drinking tonight?" Hayden asks before leaving, "no— I can drive myself, I just need two minutes." He nods leaving me stood alone in our house.

Just on cue my phone rings. As the good son that I am, I answer just before the call could go to voicemail.

"Finally," my father voice fills the line. "What do you want?" I'd consider myself a patient man but when it comes to my father— all that is gone. "It's December," his tone remaining the same, "I'm aware."

"Kian, this is important— if Dominic wins this fucking election, we are screwed." I stand by the front door, my hand on the handle, ready to leave. "This business will be yours as soon as you turn twenty-one."

"Great, was that all?" My tone sarcastic, "I need you to go through with the plan— She already knows, and she won't fight it," I hold back correcting, because truth be told, she'd rather fucking die, her words. "I need it done before New Years." My father continues, "that means you have twenty-six days."

"And if I say no?" I challenge, I know that 'no,' isn't a option. It never is, "you'll do what's right." My hand releases the handle to run through my now tangled hair. "Can you put mom on?" The line goes silent for a second, "what your mom doesn't know, won't hurt her." That's the last thing my father says before my moms voice fills the line, "tu m'as manqué." [I've missed you.] My moms a good person, so fuck knows how she ended up with my father. "Comment ça va?" [How are you?]

My mom grew up in France when she was younger until her parents moved to New York, "je vais bien, et toi?" [I'm doing well, and you?] Before I could answer my mom asks a follow up question, "dormez-vous?" [are you sleeping?]

"Vous me connaissez," [you know me] I can never sleep sober— weed helps, as does alcohol, but not enough, I always end up waking before sunrise. Insomnia fucking sucks, and it's something I can't change. Since I was younger I always remember being awake, never being able to sleep.

"Tu seras bien," [you will be fine] I grip my necklace knowing I should leave, "mom, I'll talk to you later." I switch back to English, my voice returning back to its normal tone. "Nous parlerons bientôt," [We will talk soon] as my mom says her goodbyes I head to my car, "je t'aime."

I hang up before pulling away from the drive.

I am so fucking late.