The new ring on my finger feels as heavy as my heart. It’s been almost a week, and even if everything has been turned into my responsibility, nothing goes my way.
“You’re rushing into things-“ my father spoke calmly, smoking from his cigar , not lifting his gaze up from his newspaper.
I was at my limits, but I could not disrespect him. Not when the sucker still had to spread the news to his allies. Despite my apparent crowing, he still took his sweet time in letting the outside world know that the Bechtel family had a new leader. I am sure he had a good reason for stalling, but I couldn’t waste any more time.
I sink into the seat across from him and yank the paper from his hands, holding it in a rush and slamming it onto the coffee table.
“Rushing into things?” I repeat through grit
