The Rich Life

14

For God's sake," Adam slammed his phone down on the table. I'm pretty sure it's cracked now. He had just spent the past half an hour, speaking in a respectful manner on the phone, something I wasn't used to. Kind of hilarious actually.

"What's the matter," It clearly was pissing him off, "Did a deal fall through?" I asked. He shook his head, laying his head on the cool dining table. It was the morning after Tony moved into my apartment.

It was awkward, so awfully awkward and he didn't even say goodbye. He was silent and brooding as we helped him heave boxes into my place. Then he slammed the door in our faces. I was too weary to beg for him to come back.

"Something much worse. My grandmother wants to see you and me. Unfortunately. Right now.  11 pm on the dot. Any later and we all die a slow and painful death of lecturing," He replied. He was moaning like an animal in pain.

What's the big deal? I loved my paternal grandmother but I hated my maternal. She always used to hit me with her walking stick.

Adam's grandmother was a name that was spoken in fear at Zajmi Industries. Adam himself often cringed at her name. She seemed like a fearsome, domineering figure, who often gave mysterious phone calls to the company, usually ordering something to be done. She has more power over Adam in what goes. Whatever she says, goes.

She controlled his entire adolescence much to his hatred and blames Adam for the death of her only son and favourite grandchild. That's all I know pretty much.

He managed to haul himself up, with much resistance and got dressed in a casual suit, "Do you think it's too late to hang myself off the curtain railing?" He mused. I slapped his arm playfully.

"It can't be that bad!" I laughed.

🗲

We drove out of central New York. Adam's face was twisted into a look of cold distance, conniving. His knuckles were white at the steering wheel. A silence hung in the air between us.

"Do not upset her in any way. Lower your gaze. Spoke only when you're spoken too. My grandmother hates slobbiness, sit up straight, but I know you have the best manners, Amara. I don't have to tell you," He wasn't my nice, sweet Adam. This was the dickhead version who often pissed me off. He hadn't made an appearance lately, but I could see he was creeping out now.

"Why are we even going if you despise her so much?"

"The news of our relationship is breaking the internet. She wants to see you, to give her 'blessing," He did imaginary speech marks, "She will want to know if you are suitable for this family. She will want to know everything about you. To intimidate you,"

I stayed quiet for the remainder of the car journey, smoothing out my clothes anxiously, checking to see if there was a flaw in my makeup, a garish grin of ruby red. We drove up to an imposing manner, gravel crunching under the tyres. It reminded me of the huge residential houses in Britain.

If Adam was feared, then what was his Grandmother like?

I think he could sense my anxiety and said, "Amara, you look so fucking angelic, don't worry. You are perfect," He kissed my forehead as we walked up the gravel. It feels like I'm walking to my death, each footstep getting heavier as I moved further to the double door, "You can't fail as badly as Maribelle,"

🗲

Adam's Grandmother moved with a captivating grace that terrified me. I couldn't get comfortable, no matter what position I was in. This room, like all the other rooms in the house, was grandiose and heavily perfumed in oud. She took up too much space with her magnificent silk dress and veil, her precious jewellery adorned in thousands of colourful gemstones. She had a manipulative smile, almost identical to Adam's and she lay across several pillows.