Corrupt - Douglas Penelope - Страница 43

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In the spider’s web of Thunder Bay, with its endless lies and secrets, its fake smiles and bullshit, I thought I’d found one person who was different. Who saw everything I wanted and craved it with me.

My brother was right. I’d seen that look in her eyes long before I even noticed her face or her body. That look of something being contained and wanting to claw its way out.

Rika and I had always circled each other, even before either of us was aware of it. And her betrayal was as close as I’d ever come being gutted.

I walked straight for the door, and opened it without knocking.

My father was seated behind his desk, the furniture polish of the dark mahogany tables and bookshelves hitting my nose and reminding me of a museum.

His lawyer, Monroe Wynn, sat across from him with his back to me.

“Michael.” My father looked up, tapping his finger on his desk with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “What a rare surprise.”

I shut the door behind me, already feeling the air filter into my lungs like oil. He wasn’t happy to see me, and I hated being in his presence. Our relationship died long ago when I started standing up for myself, so his mock pleasure at the sight of me was merely for his lawyer’s benefit.

“Monroe, you know my son,” he offered, waving his hand between us.

Monroe rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Hi, Michael.”

I took it and nodded once. “Sir.”

I released his hand and crossed my arms over my chest.

“We’re expecting great things from you this year,” Monroe said. “Wife was mad enough I bought box seats for the season, so it better be worth it. Don’t let us down.”

“No, sir.”

“He’ll do his job,” my father assured. As if he had an ounce of fucking control. He hated my career and never supported it.

Monroe nodded, and I turned my eyes on my father.

Sensing the uncomfortable silence, Monroe finally grabbed his files and briefcase, his arms full as he turned to leave.

“We’ll talk soon,” he told my father.

He left the room, and my father leaned back up in his seat, looking at me through annoyed blue eyes. He and my brother looked alike with dark blond hair, pale skin, and narrow jaws. Both of them stood at least three inches shorter than me. I inherited my height from my mother’s side of the family.

“I’m surprised you even remembered where the building was,” he sneered.

“Fair’s fair,” I retorted, leaning my shoulder against the bookshelf. “I’m here as much as you’re home.”

He leveled his gaze on me, looking unamused. “Have you talked to your mother?”

I nodded. “Yesterday. She’s spending a few days shopping in Paris before heading to Spain. You’re meeting her this week, correct?”

“As usual,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

I shrugged, shaking my head. “No reason.”

Actually, there was a very good reason. I wanted to make sure he was leaving. And soon. Rika believed her mother was with mine on board Pithom off the coast of southern Europe.

No. Pithom was still docked in Thunder Bay, and my mother hadn’t seen Ms. Fane since before she left for Europe, by plane, over a week ago.

Rika didn’t know where her mother really was. I did.

And when my father joined my mother, Rika would have zero support around her.

My parents always left in the fall for several weeks to visit various friends and business partners out of the country. And while my father traveled extensively throughout the year, their annual excursion was always together. My mother was useful with her charm, wit, and beauty, so he insisted she accompany him when he made the rounds in Europe every autumn. It was the one thing I knew I could count on.

The house in Thunder Bay was currently empty, with my mother having already left and my father staying here in the city, at the private fuckpad he kept on the other side of town.

At the very least he had the decency not to keep an apartment at Delcour and flaunt his sluts in a building he owned.

“Have you spoken to Trevor?” he asked.

But I just stared.

He breathed out a laugh, realizing that was a stupid question.

A young woman came into the office with an armful of file folders. She smiled at me, looking sexy in her bright blue dress and perfect blonde hair.

Walking behind my father’s desk, she placed the folders on top and reached over it, taking a post-it and writing a quick note for him.

He didn’t even try to hide his leering as he reclined in his chair and gazed at her ass as she bent over next to him.

“So why are you here?” he broached, and I didn’t miss his hand disappearing up her dress.

She bit her bottom lip to stifle her smile.

I fisted my hands under my arms. God, I fucking hated him.

“To talk about my future,” I replied.

He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes on me.

I hated this. I didn’t want to deal with him for another second, which is why it’d taken me so long to deal with what should’ve been settled long ago. I hadn’t wanted to come here.

His lips curled. Pulling his hand out, he gave the girl a pat on the behind. “Close the door on your way out.”

She walked around the desk, casting one last glance at me before leaving the room.

He exhaled a heavy breath, peering over at me. “I seem to remember trying to have this conversation with you many times. You didn’t want to attend Annapolis. You wanted to take a full scholarship to Westgate.”

“They had a superior athletic program,” I reminded him.

“You didn’t want a future in this company,” he continued. “You wanted to play basketball.”

“I’m a professional athlete,” I responded. “I’ve been in more magazines than you.”

He snickered. “This isn’t about making better choices, Michael. This is about you consistently defying me. Whatever I want, you do the opposite.”

He stood up from his chair and took his glass of what I assumed was his usual Scotch and stood next to his floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “As you grew up and became a man, I thought you’d be more agreeable, but you haven’t stopped. At every turn of the hand, you—”

“Back on topic,” I cut in, straightening my back. “My future.”

We’d had this conversation—or fight—several times. I didn’t need a rehash.

“Fine,” he allowed. “What do you want?”

“You were right,” I admitted, swallowing the bitterness in my mouth. “In ten—fifteen—years I’ll be looking for college coaching positions, and as I look ahead, my career loses its luster. It doesn’t have a future.”

He inhaled a deep breath, looking as if he liked the sound of that. “I’m listening.”

“Let me try something on for size,” I suggested. “Let’s see what I can do with some of your interests.”

“Like what?”

I shrugged, pretending to be thinking, as if I hadn’t come in here with plan. “How about Delcour and fifty thousand shares of Ferro?”

He laughed as my audacity, which is exactly what I wanted. I knew he wouldn’t go for it.

“Fifty thousand shares would make you a partner,” he pointed out, setting down his glass and taking a seat again. “Son or no son, you don’t get those kinds of perks just handed to you.”

He fanned out his suit jacket, leaning back in his seat and pinning me with a stare. “And not in Meridian City,” he demanded. “If you embarrass me, I’d like it less visible.”

“Fine.” I nodded. “What about…FANE then?”

Rika’s family had given their jewelry store the family name when it’d been opened years before she was born.

He pinched his eyebrows together, looking suspicious. “FANE?”

Shit. I’d moved too fast. He was going to say no.

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Everything is tucked away in Thunder Bay, isn’t it? Out of sight? Let’s see what I can do with the shop, the house, and the Fane’s holdings.”

“Absolutely not,” he answered. “All of that will be your brother’s someday.”

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