The Drazen World: The Lesson (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read Online Free
Author: Milana Raziel
details that I can torture him with at a later date. What's with the Shelly reference?"
"My given name is Dashiell Beaumont Warren. I’m one in a long line of Dashiells. My family always called me Beau so I wouldn't be confused with my cousin or uncle. It's the curse of having an old Scottish family. Eddie found out what the D stood for and wouldn't let it drop."
"He's just jealous because he’s named after a sycophant from a 50s sit-com. Personally, I love your name. You should invent a cool, film noir story to go with it. The girls will eat it up." She gave my bicep a squeeze and turned her attention to Jon. Losing that attention was like feeling the sun go behind a cloud. "And what about you, Mr. Number After Your Name? Obviously, your family is mighty attached to it. What does the ‘S’ stand for, anyways? Smug?" Missy sipped on her bourbon and gave Jonathan a saucy look.
"Seamus. What else would you expect from a respectable, traditional Irish Catholic family? I'll have you know that the litany of Drazens includes just about every popular Irish female name as well. The only one we're missing is ‘Meg,’ and that's because Margie threatened to beat the shit out of anyone who called her that." He paused to sip on his whiskey. "Don't think you're getting off so easy, woman. I'd bet my trust fund that Missy isn't short for Melissa. It's not the Italian Catholic way. Spill it."
Drazen dropped his voice with his inquiry, and it was fascinating the way Missy reacted. She glanced down before she answered in what seemed more like an unspoken signal than a bid to stall for time.
JONATHAN
Yeah. I’m not playing fair. I dodged the rest of the answer, having no interest in discussing my morally flexible ancestors. Their legacy is still at work and far too close to the surface to make cute jokes about it. As a testament to that hereditary moral flexibility, I’d used "the voice" to confirm my suspicions. Missy had a connection to Lucius and it wasn’t a shared interest in financial markets. Her body language said that it was something far more interesting and personal. The look that came over her as she acquiesced was breathtaking.
"You're right on all counts. Melissa isn't a saint's name, so it's a no-go for sure. My family was from a town near Rome, and my mom picked an old Imperial name, Messalina, to honor our family's connection to the center of the ancient world. She thought it sounded pretty. Dad didn't have the heart to tell her exactly who Messalina was—just that she ruled the world. Try getting through life named after a promiscuous Roman empress who was exiled for being a horny, treasonous bitch. So I became Missy." She gulped down some bourbon then whispered, "Please don't breathe a word, Drazen. It'll make my life hell, especially if Eddie finds out."
"Your secrets are safe with me." Every one of them.
She squirmed in her seat—fetchingly, I might add. Ignoring my budding sadistic tendencies, I switched to a safer topic. Her discomfort over the name confession was enough to satisfy me for the moment. "Art history and accounting? You'd be wasted running a gallery or babysitting temperamental artists. Though Eddie probably counts as OJT for the latter. What gives?"
"Making sure I don't leave anything on the table, I guess. I max out my courses every semester. It's the only way I can secure my future and feed my soul at the same time. A glittering future is kind of pointless if you're dead inside. But it looks like I'm postponing it all because Columbia Law made me an offer I can't refuse. Can't turn down more free education, can you?" The way she looked into that bourbon glass made me think she was hoping to find a different answer there. "Honestly, I'd love to find a way to use the business and law to protect art, not sell it, but that's a stretch."
"Five courses?! Every semester? That's amazing, and a little insane." How the hell has she survived such a
"My given name is Dashiell Beaumont Warren. I’m one in a long line of Dashiells. My family always called me Beau so I wouldn't be confused with my cousin or uncle. It's the curse of having an old Scottish family. Eddie found out what the D stood for and wouldn't let it drop."
"He's just jealous because he’s named after a sycophant from a 50s sit-com. Personally, I love your name. You should invent a cool, film noir story to go with it. The girls will eat it up." She gave my bicep a squeeze and turned her attention to Jon. Losing that attention was like feeling the sun go behind a cloud. "And what about you, Mr. Number After Your Name? Obviously, your family is mighty attached to it. What does the ‘S’ stand for, anyways? Smug?" Missy sipped on her bourbon and gave Jonathan a saucy look.
"Seamus. What else would you expect from a respectable, traditional Irish Catholic family? I'll have you know that the litany of Drazens includes just about every popular Irish female name as well. The only one we're missing is ‘Meg,’ and that's because Margie threatened to beat the shit out of anyone who called her that." He paused to sip on his whiskey. "Don't think you're getting off so easy, woman. I'd bet my trust fund that Missy isn't short for Melissa. It's not the Italian Catholic way. Spill it."
Drazen dropped his voice with his inquiry, and it was fascinating the way Missy reacted. She glanced down before she answered in what seemed more like an unspoken signal than a bid to stall for time.
JONATHAN
Yeah. I’m not playing fair. I dodged the rest of the answer, having no interest in discussing my morally flexible ancestors. Their legacy is still at work and far too close to the surface to make cute jokes about it. As a testament to that hereditary moral flexibility, I’d used "the voice" to confirm my suspicions. Missy had a connection to Lucius and it wasn’t a shared interest in financial markets. Her body language said that it was something far more interesting and personal. The look that came over her as she acquiesced was breathtaking.
"You're right on all counts. Melissa isn't a saint's name, so it's a no-go for sure. My family was from a town near Rome, and my mom picked an old Imperial name, Messalina, to honor our family's connection to the center of the ancient world. She thought it sounded pretty. Dad didn't have the heart to tell her exactly who Messalina was—just that she ruled the world. Try getting through life named after a promiscuous Roman empress who was exiled for being a horny, treasonous bitch. So I became Missy." She gulped down some bourbon then whispered, "Please don't breathe a word, Drazen. It'll make my life hell, especially if Eddie finds out."
"Your secrets are safe with me." Every one of them.
She squirmed in her seat—fetchingly, I might add. Ignoring my budding sadistic tendencies, I switched to a safer topic. Her discomfort over the name confession was enough to satisfy me for the moment. "Art history and accounting? You'd be wasted running a gallery or babysitting temperamental artists. Though Eddie probably counts as OJT for the latter. What gives?"
"Making sure I don't leave anything on the table, I guess. I max out my courses every semester. It's the only way I can secure my future and feed my soul at the same time. A glittering future is kind of pointless if you're dead inside. But it looks like I'm postponing it all because Columbia Law made me an offer I can't refuse. Can't turn down more free education, can you?" The way she looked into that bourbon glass made me think she was hoping to find a different answer there. "Honestly, I'd love to find a way to use the business and law to protect art, not sell it, but that's a stretch."
"Five courses?! Every semester? That's amazing, and a little insane." How the hell has she survived such a
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