“One last thing, Achilles,” Cain said, hesitating a beat. “Since you did the research and understand it and the company better than me or Kenan, would you feel comfortable presenting it at the next acquisitions meeting?” Before Achilles could answer, Cain set down his cup and held up a hand, palm out. “Don’t feel pressured, but I believe you would be the best man for it.”
“I’ll do it.”
Cain blinked and Kenan stared at him, both looking as surprised as Achilles felt. Yeah, he hadn’t expected to say that, either. But it was...right.
So was this leap of faith.
They would be your biggest supporters. If you would just let them... Let them in.
“Well, okay, then—” Cain smiled.
“If you two don’t have anything scheduled and can give me a few minutes, I’d like to show you something.”
Kenan shrugged a shoulder. “I’m free.”
Cain studied him a long moment with that incisive stare. “Even if I did, I’d cancel it.”
Another burst of that damn warmth. Throat tight, Achilles nodded and surged from the couch, grabbing his laptop bag. “Can I use your desk?”
Forty-five minutes later, he had his computer set up on Cain’s desk, his program pulled up, and he’d explained everything about the video game—the setting, the target audience, the potential marketing...and the origination of the idea.
As he revealed his stint in prison neither Cain nor Kenan interrupted him, just let him relay his story until he completely finished.
And neither Cain nor Kenan looked shocked.
“You knew,” Achilles flatly stated, not angry, not glad. Not... Hell, he didn’t know how he felt.
“Of course I did,” Cain said from his perch on the edge of the desk, arms crossed over his chest, no trace of remorse in his voice. “I had both of you investigated by the company’s private investigator the moment after the will was read.”
“And my father had you two investigated to rub in my face the kind of men I’d abandoned Rhodes Realty to align myself with.” Kenan smiled, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “You two are real reprobates, by the way.” His lips twisted. “I fit right in.”
“I’m a reformed reprobate,” Cain drawled. “Love has changed me.”
Achilles shrugged. “Three hots and a cot changed me.”
“Great.” Kenan scoffed. “What kind of brothers are you, leaving me out here being a degenerate on my own?” He shook his head, but the mock disgust melted away, and his scrutiny turned speculative. “So is the supposed ‘jail secret’ why you’ve kept your distance from us?”
Dammit. Leave it to Kenan to get to the awkward heart of the matter. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Achilles rose from Cain’s chair and strode to the floor-to-ceiling window of the CEO office. His brother’s office. Where he fit. Where he was born to rule. How did Achilles explain that to a man who knew from the cradle that he would be king?
He didn’t know, but he had to try. Because the time for secrets, for remaining silent and shutting his brothers out, had passed.
Turning around, he met their identical gazes.
“When I received that letter telling me about Barron’s death, I honestly don’t know why I used that ticket. I hadn’t thought of my so-called father in years. I didn’t care about him—”
“Stop lying to yourself,” Kenan interrupted softly. “You came to that will reading for the same reason I did. Because your whole life you felt something was missing. And you were hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you might find it.”
Achilles parted his lips to object, to claim that his mother and grandmother had always been enough. But the denial wouldn’t emerge. Because seeds of truth lay in that statement. Curiosity and, yes, hope had propelled him to get on that plane and come to Boston.
“Okay, I’ll give you that. And I’ll even give you that I found the something that had been missing my whole life. Brothers. But you’re right. I have tried to keep my distance, tried not to become attached to either of you because after this year is up, I’m leaving Boston. I...” Even as he surveyed the luxury of the office, the paintings, furnishings, obvious signs of wealth and power, a small voice whispered—was it still true? With the baby, he hadn’t allowed himself to think that far in advance. “I don’t belong here. Not in Boston. Not in Farrell International. You two were born into this world. You know how to maneuver in it. You know its language, its rules. I don’t. I love computers, codes, software, design. It’s where I’m happiest, not negotiating contracts, closing deals, attending parties or learning how not to offend some person with how I talk or just being...me. This isn’t my world.”
“That’s bullshit,” Cain snarled, shoving off his desk and stalking over to Achilles. “The man who endured the childhood he did... The man who survived fucking jail and then forged a successful career for himself... The man who created that brilliant video game so youth like he once was can see themselves as courageous and heroic. That man will not run from some assholes who have nothing better to do than sit around, pick out napkins for their next dinner party and gossip about people who are too busy changing the goddamn world.”
Cain got in Achilles’s face, his frown fierce, fire burning in his gaze. “I know what it is to turn everyone away. To be alone and convince yourself that’s what you want. That you’re better off that way. I won’t let you do it. Not while I’m here. I’ll fight for you. Me. Kenan. Devon. You have family now. And we’ll fight for you. You’re not going anywhere. Not if I have to keep flying all the way across the country to that forest and camp outside that damn cabin until you give in and come home. Becausethis isyour home now. Go visit the mountains to get away for a few days or weeks, but you come back. You’re always going to come back to us. Goddammit.”
Achilles stood there, rigid with tension, staring at Cain, who glared back at him. Both of their hands curled into fists at their sides, and out of his peripheral vision, he caught Kenan standing a couple of feet away, glancing back and forth. Probably waiting to see whom he would need to tackle first.
Inhaling a deep breath through his nose, Achilles nodded. “Okay.”
