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“Are they?” I cocked my head, offering nothing but a sly smile. “I don’t think my buddy, the one I went to college with and the one who’s in charge of the police department will think so. Then there’s the girl from Channel 8 I dated for several months. I’m certain she’ll be thrilled to finally make her way into the upper echelon of reporters, perhaps even going national. But that decision is entirely up to you. Either way is fine with me.”
I took a few seconds basking in the moment of victory before sliding a pen, my favorite Montblanc, across the desk along with the contract. It would dissolve the limited partnership my father had entered into with the man, providing Casper with a mere token of appreciation and nothing else. What Mr. Jacobs didn’t know was that very soon he’d be penniless, his reputation and his marriage ruined. All in the name of revenge. What was the saying? It was best served cold? Well, it was frosty but would prove to be a shining hour.
Meanwhile, our firm would finalize the deal for a multimillion-dollar resort project that would place our corporation onto the map, solidly placing us in the lead for any future projects throughout the East Coast.
Stars were in my eyes as I thought about the adventures to be had in the future, additional cities to conquer. I turned away, allowing the man some privacy. There was no sound for almost a full minute. When I heard a rustling of paper, I glared at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window, thrilled at my accomplishment. It had been a hard-fought win but one worth a juicy rare steak and a glass of whiskey or two.
It was obvious he was leaving my office, even throwing open the door by making enough noise I huffed.
“Hear me. You won’t get away with this, Sebastian. I thought your father was the most ruthless man I’d ever met, but I was wrong. You’re an evil person. May you rot in hell. I assure you I’m going to help you carve your way into the flames. Mark my words. The reign you believe you have is getting ready to come to an end. When I find your weakness, you will be destroyed.”
“Good luck with that.” I might be one of the few men on Earth who had no weaknesses. I drank responsibly, didn’t smoke, certainly had never used recreational drugs, and succumbed to my love of women only when the need outweighed the high I achieved from making money and tearing people down.
Still, I had to give the man a small amount of credit. He’d managed to end our conversation with a useless threat.
He slammed the door as I knew he would. Maybe I was the devil in disguise. What did I care? I was rich. I had every toy a growing boy could need. Those who’d dared cross me had learned the hard way what I was capable of.
Exhaling, I glanced over my shoulder at the signed contract before walking to the bar I’d insisted on having in my office. It was time to celebrate. The whiskey was my favorite, the smooth taste exactly what would slake my thirst. Glass in hand, I returned to the window, staring out at the ocean waters of Miami Beach. Cawthorne Industries owned the entire building, our corporate offices taking up the top two floors of the forty-story building. From where I stood, I had a perfect view of the sweeping turquoise ocean and miles of the most exclusive restaurants and nightclubs.
I was a lucky man, affording anything I wanted in my life. Cars. Houses. Vacation homes. Yachts. I had them all.
As I took a sip, I found it disgusting that even with being able to purchase everything my heart desired, nothing had satisfied the darkness furrowing inside. My ex had explained in vivid detail that I had no clue how to be happy or appreciative.
And that I’d always be a lonely man until the day I died. Old and alone.
I’d laughed. Now I was beginning to wonder. I was almost forty years old, yet I’d had one relationship that had lasted longer than a couple of months. I took a gulp of my drink, shaking my head. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I needed to get laid. That would soothe the savage beast inside for at least a couple of months.
I heard a knock on the door and sighed. My work was never done. “Yes?”
The waning sun allowed me to realize my assistant had opened my door, something she only did if it was important. I turned around, curious what calamity had occurred now.
“I have a phone call for you. The man said it can’t wait,” Nora said, nervous as she always was when she interrupted me. I was known for my lack of patience and my temper.
“Who is it?”
“A man by the name of Hank Barclay. He says he’s your grandfather’s attorney and it’s urgent that he speak with you. Evidently, he’s been trying for a couple of days.”
“Hank Barclay,” I repeated. I did remember listening to a couple of messages, although he’d made no comment as to who he was or why he’d been trying to reach me.
There were few things that troubled me or caused me to pause even for a second. My grandfather was one of them. He’d been more like a loving father to me than my own dad, who’d been far too busy to give a shit about his growing sons or his wife for that matter. My father had pushed her away with his brutality and anger, something I’d yet to forgive him for.
My mother had run off with some Greek tycoon when I was barely seventeen and had just graduated high school. I’d hated her for years for leaving me and my brother until I’d learned what my father had done to her. Within two weeks, my father had sent my brother to boarding school and me to my grandfather’s ranch for the summer. That had turned into almost a full year, me spending my first year of college in Colorado. I’d hated it at first, the small town completely unlike Miami. Then I hadn’t wanted to leave, which certainly hadn’t sat well with dear old Pops.
All the happiness I’d experienced during the time that I’d lived with the man had been taken away, my father insisting I go to an Ivy League college closer to home instead. While he’d told me a community college wasn’t good enough for a Cawthorne, I’d known the truth even then. My father hated my grandfather for unknown reasons. They’d been estranged my entire life. Not once had my grandfather come to visit his grandkids or vice versa. My grandfather had even stopped calling and we’d just grown apart, the months turning into years. I’d always had a feeling he’d thought I’d abandoned him. The truth was I’d been forced to make a choice.
The ugly truth was that my father had threatened me not only with my inheritance but by keeping my brother out of my life. I’d had no other choice. Oddly, the pain I felt from losing the aging man hit me hard, more so than I would have believed after all this time.
“I’ll take it,” I told her, waiting until she’d left before sitting down in my office chair, staring at the office phone. Exhaling, I finally picked up the receiver a few seconds later.
“Sebastian Cawthorne, my name is Hank Barclay.”
“Yes, Mr. Barclay. I understand you’re my grandfather’s attorney.”
“And his best friend. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for almost a week.”
No, it had been a couple of days, but I wasn’t going to correct him on it.
“I’ve been very busy with my business, Mr. Barclay, and in truth, I’ll appreciate if you get to the point.” I was already irritated by the man’s terse tone.
