All My Nevers

Prologue & Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

Kayden

"We were terrible liars wearing flawless masks of feigned virtue . . ."

Condolences are the worst thing to bring to a funeral. Better bring booze. The more, the merrier your 'sorry for your loss' crap will sound. Because let's face it, you're not sorry for my loss. No one is.

Not even I.

Harsh? I don't think so. As much as I despise glozing, buying all the pompous-ass tears people shed because of my dearest daddy's death would be the biggest lie of the century.

Look at you, the poisonous cream of San Fernando swell society—a bunch of corrupted phonies with Botox-pumped wives and spoiled kids who barely know how to spell their ten-dollar names but remember by heart the list of the most celebrated resorts of Côte d'Azur. You'd sell your mother's kidney if that meant seeing your name on Page Six.

Damn beau-monde.

I always hated to be a part of it. And today, I loathed it like never before.

My eyes drifted to a polished mahogany coffin standing in front of me and I winced at the vomiting smell of lilacs that I detested almost as much as being back home after three years of my peaceful and, even more important, problem-free life in London. The white petals of the flowers on top of the coffin looked virgin and fragile. Unlike the man about to be buried with their weight.

The former senator Nicholas McKinnon was a king of San Fernando, cruel, heartless, and ungodly wealthy. But like most kings, he had to give up the reins of his power sooner or later, and the second stroke in less than six months made it inevitable. I wasn't here to inherit his throne. I was here to enjoy the view of his coffin disappearing into the hole. Because that was the very place the monster belonged.

I lowered my sunglasses-covered eyes to the ground and stared at the grass under my feet. From aside, I must have looked like a mourning son, crying over the death of his beloved father. But the truth was I couldn't wait for the one-excuse-for-the-funeral show to be finally over.

I couldn't breathe, and I felt like I would faint any second, which would be a cherry on top of this shit-cake ceremony. Everyone would watch me lie on the ground, but not a single ass would move to help me up.

Damn, I need to get the hell out of here, as soon as possible.

But my mother's death grip on my elbow was the only thing that stopped me from running. Victoria McKinnon was one of a few people who actually cared about the man in the coffin. Like a loyal dog, she'd been following him through life, every day serving his needs and complying with his every egotistical demand. A part of me admired her patience and willpower. Not everyone had the balls to stand my father, but she did. And I always wondered if her love was actually a mask to cover her fear of him. However, I would never know the truth. Now, it was as dead as the father I used to idolize and then hate more than anyone in the world. I still couldn't believe I was here today to fake my respect for him. He didn't deserve a bit of it. Not after everything I had to go through because of him.

"Kade, darling, I'm not feeling well," my mother whispered, her face paled to the color of a snow-white sheet.

I wrapped one arm around her small shoulders. "Do you want to sit down?"

"Yes, please."

I turned around, looking for Marla, my mom's PA. One look at my troubled face was enough to read the unspoken message and she hurried to bring a portable chair for Mama.

Victoria sat down and thanked Marla with a weak smile ghosting her blood-red lips. The color was her trademark and she never cheated on it, preferring red to any other shade of lipstick. She said red was the color of victory, and with a name like hers, losing a battle had never been an option, even when it came to choosing lipstick. Her raven black shoulder-length hair shielded her haggard-from-the-loss face. She shifted her gaze to the coffin, and I saw more tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She was losing it badly, and for a second, I wished I could take a part of her pain away. Because, unlike my father, my mom had always been good to me. Even when I didn't deserve her adoration and the kindness of her big heart, I never once doubted her motherly love for me.