A Savage Inheritance Anna Williams Young's life has always been dictated by the expectations of the Young family. As a wife to Grant Young, she’s lived under the shadow of wealth and tradition, but when a mysterious man named Wentworth Biglesbee arrives with shocking news, Anna's world is turned upside down. Her estranged father, Sam Savage, a powerful billionaire businessman, has passed away—and left her everything. Thrown into the world of Savage Enterprises, Anna must navigate her new position as the CEO, all while keeping her identity a secret from those who might know her past—and from her husband. But as the stakes grow higher, Anna discovers that the life she thought she wanted might be nothing compared to the woman she’s meant to become. With her inheritance comes power, wealth, and a chance for revenge against the family who’s humiliated her. But will Anna be able to balance her newfound power with the love she has for her husband, or will the secrets she’s hiding tear everything apart?
Lihat lebih banyak*Anna*
“You call this clean! What the hell is the matter with you, you numbskull?” Hattie shouts, tossing the skirt I just labored over for five hours in my face. “If you can’t get that stain out, then go down to the department store and buy me another skirt! With your own money!” My sister-in-law stomps away. I can only assume she’s glaring at me. It’s kind of hard to see with her 3X skirt draped over my head.
With a grimace, I pull it off and take another look at the spot where she spilled wine at dinner last night. I honestly don’t see one trace of the red stain now, but who am I to argue? This is the Young household, and she is a part of the family. Granted, she isn’t any more a Young than I am since we are both married to brothers whose grandmother owns this enormous estate, but for some reason, Hattie is accepted into the family, and I’m… well, I’m just Anna.
“Do you need another brush?” Winnie, the head housekeeper, who is one of the only people who lives here that is ever kind to me, holds out a new fine-toothed brush. I know it’s not going to make any difference, but I gratefully accept it and return to the laundry room, trying to keep my emotions in check. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Youngs in the three years that I’ve been living here it’s that letting them see you cry only makes them meaner.
An hour goes by, and now, I’m afraid I’ve scrubbed so hard that the spot on the skirt is starting to look too white when it’s meant to be cream. There’s no way in hell I can go down to that fancy department store and buy her a new skirt. I only get an allowance of twenty dollars per month from Grandmother Trudy, and I have to save that for all of my personal needs–like deodorant and shampoo. It would take me years to save up enough money to buy her a new skirt like this one.
“Oh, there you are, Anna.” Mary’s voice has me turning to look at the doorway. “Are you still scrubbing that skirt?”
I nod, and my mother-in-law’s mouth turns down in a slight frown. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. She is the only member of the Young family who goes out of her way to be kind to me. Even my own husband, Grant, is often indifferent about my treatment.
“Would you like some advice?” She takes a few steps into the room, a space she’s never really needed to occupy since she has plenty of servants to do her laundry for her.
“I suppose,” I say, afraid I’m about to get both of us in trouble. Hattie has no power over Mary, but if Grandmother Trudy sees Mary being nice to me, well, she won’t stand for it.
“Just rinse the skirt out, make sure it’s dry, and hang it in her closet. She won’t even remember which one it was. It’ll be impossible for her to say you couldn’t get the stain out when she doesn’t know which of her hundreds of skirts has the stain. I’m fairly certain she has eight that are nearly identical to that one.” She pats me lovingly on the shoulder, and I almost lean into the touch. Save for my own mother, who lives in a much smaller house on the property, no one ever touches me in such a kind fashion.
“You’re sure I won’t get us in trouble?” I’m used to being chastised, but I don’t want Mary to get yelled at.
“I’m positive.” She brushes her hand along my cheek and smiles fondly at me. “You have such a pretty face, Anna.”
“Th-thank you.” I’m not used to compliments, so I smile awkwardly at her until she turns and leaves the room.
Since I’m all out of ideas, I do as she suggested, and once the skirt is dry, I scamper off to hide it in Hattie’s closet. Thankfully, I’m able to slip in and out undetected. I guess it’s a good thing I’m so light. No one can say that the Young family spends too much money on food for me, that’s for sure.
I’m so used to tiptoeing that I don’t realize I’m doing it as I walk down the hall where Grandmother Trudy’s office is located. As the head of a company that specializes in building event centers–stadiums, arenas, concert halls, etc.--she is not only exceedingly wealthy but very business savvy. No one in the entire city–maybe even the entire country–would dare to face off against Trudy Young in the boardroom.
“Sam Savage did what?” Trudy shouts, likely into her phone. “That right bastard!”
Well, maybe there’s one person.
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It’s frowned upon in this house to ever express any form of happiness when it comes to Savage Enterprises, Young Corporation’s biggest opponent. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t secretly cheer for Savage Enterprises in the background. I love it that someone is able to get under Grandmother Trudy’s skin. No one can do it like Mr. Savage.
“You tell him I’m buying that property, and if he wants to tangle with me, well, I’ll see him in hell!”
It’s a good thing Grandmother Trudy insists on using a desk phone because the sound of her slamming down the receiver tells me immediately that I need to skedaddle. I hear the quick clip-clop of her heels coming down the hallway, so I dart in the other direction. She might be seventy-five, but she’s spry.
I’m in such a hurry to get away from her so that she doesn’t know that I was eavesdropping that I’m not looking where I’m going. The next thing I know, I’ve collided with what feels like an iron wall someone must’ve erected right in the middle of the hall.
But when I look up, it’s no iron wall–just the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on who happens to have abs of steel.
My husband.
*Anna*Grant’s face is alarming, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him enough that he doesn’t want to celebrate the passing of the baton from Grandma Trudy to him.Right now, the only baton I’m thinking about is the one between his legs.I stand before him completely naked and let him admire what he sees. His smile says it all. I can’t get his clothing off him fast enough. I start with his tie while he strips his jacket off, but when I reach for the buttons on his shirt, he grabs hold of the top and rips. All the buttons go flying, we both laugh, but then I press my hands to his smooth chest, and I’m not laughing anymore. His chiseled muscles ripple down to his abs. Below that, the bulge in his pants lets me know how excited he is, and I need him even more.I climb onto the bed and move back, watching him unbutton his pants, tug down the zipper, and slip them over his hips, along with his briefs. God, my husband is so unbelievably hot. My fingers slide down my stomach and between my
*Grant*My eye explodes in pain as I stumble back and try to keep my feet under me. I can’t remember the last time I was sucker punched, but it had to be in middle school.Carson comes at me again, but this time, I’m ready. My cousin is clearly drunk off his ass, and I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t let him hit me again either. He swings, and I catch his arm, flip him around, and put him in a chokehold. All around us, women are gasping, and the crowd backs away.“What in the world is this?” Grandmother Trudy shouts as she comes over, her mouth hanging open in shock.“Carson just punched Grant in the face for no reason!” my mother exclaims, rushing over. “We should call the police!”“Mom, we don’t need to call the police,” I assure her. Carson is doing his best to get free of me, but he must’ve used every ounce of energy he had to throw that punch because he’s not making any progress.“Get security,” Grandmother Trudy says to no one in particular, and four random people rush off l
*Anna*Helping Barbar is something Anna would do, not something A. Savage would do, but if I’m going to be merging the two of them, I suppose I should start making Ms. Savage a little more humane.Still, the entire time I tried to help her get the punch out of her hair and find her a new dress, she cried and carried on. She cursed me–Anna, that is–over and over again, sobbing to her mom about how much she loved Grant and wanted me to be… dead.Lovely.So when I saw the hideous dress the staff found in the lost and found, and the staff said that was the only formal dress they had in Barbara’s size, I tried to convince her I liked it. I guess that was a bit evil of me, but no one can convince me she didn’t deserve it.Now, I’ve listened to the speeches. I see everyone going over to kiss Trudy’s ass. Others are congratulating Grant. It’s difficult to be so close to my handsome husband and not be able to talk to him, dance with him, or even acknowledge him without raising eyebrows. We don
*Grant*Barbara is sitting on the floor, covered in punch almost the same shade as her dress. Tears stream down her cheeks, rivulets of pink running down her chest and pooling on the ground around her. She looks like a hot mess, and everyone in the entire event center is staring at her.It’s actually Anna who leaps into action first. “Someone get some paper towels,” she says as she rushes over to help Barbara get up out of the puddle of misery. Barbara is so distraught, she doesn’t even push her away. I fully expect her to shout at Anna–A. Savage at the moment–and accuse her of shoving her, but she latches onto her arm, getting Anna wet in the process. Grandmother Trudy barks orders like only she can do. “Get a mop! Someone get that table up. Wash the punch bowl out and refill it. Where is this girl’s mother?”Anna has Barbara up and is moving her toward the bathroom. A staff member runs out with a wad of paper towels, and Anna starts sopping up the excess punch clinging to Barbara’s
*Anna*“Name, please,” the girl behind the lectern says as I approach the entrance to Grandmother Trudy’s retirement party. I don’t even want to be here in the first place, but this woman is staring at me like I’m an insect, and she’s ready to pull out her magnifying glass.“A. Savage.” I force a smile. That’s what this entire evening is going to be about, after all—making myself smile when I really want to rip everyone’s hair out of their heads and strangle them with it.She looks down her list, her expression flat, like she’s bored to tears. When she reaches the bottom of page four, she says, “No, sorry. You’re not on the list. Please take this woman, who’s clearly wearing a dress off the rack from a department store, to the exit.” She looks at the security guard standing next to her, and he starts over.“What? What do you mean I’m not on the list? And how dare you insult my dress! Check again.” I’m not budging. After all the trouble I went to to get here, the last thing I’m doing i
*Grant*It’s odd, riding to my grandmother’s retirement party without my wife. As of late, I’ve gotten used to going everywhere with Anna. But I can’t take her to this party because she wasn’t invited.I did contact my grandmother about it because I felt it would sound strange if I didn’t, and until Anna is ready to tell everyone the truth, I don’t want to give anyone any clues as to what’s really going on. I just told her I was disappointed in her choices, and she said it’s her party, and she’ll do what she wants.So here I am, in the back of a black luxury car, being driven to the party on my own. Another driver will arrive with my wife–wearing her A. Savage costume–a bit after I get there. She likes to be fashionably late, and she’s not planning on staying very long.The car pulls up to the event center, one of the many we have built over the years, and there are a lot of photographers outside snapping photos. I hate this. Why must the paparazzi hound us when it’s just a retirement
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