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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Daniel, Fletcher, and Hunter marched toward Senator Mackenzie’s office. Like his brothers, he was top to toe in black. His suit a custom Tom Ford. On his wrist was his Patek Philippe (which ironically would single-handedly pay for the extortionist's political campaign). His attitude: pure Dufort.
A few hours ago, his father had attempted to reach him, demanding a reason for being summoned. Daniel hadn’t replied.
Johnathan would show up.
“We’re here to see Senator Mackenzie,” Daniel announced to the flustered receptionist without slowing his walk.
“This way,” Fletcher said, and they turned left down the hallway.
Around them, staff began scampering out of their chairs and out behind their desks, like panicked mice.
“Sir, excuse me. Gentlemen, you cannot just go through there,” one woman called after them.
Blah, blah, blah.
A secretary sat outside what was obviously the senator's office, but there was no sign on the door. She stood looking panicked.
“Mr. Dufort,” she said, her eyes darting to all three of them. “I told Selena the senator is unavailable this afternoon. I’m afraid—”
“I doubt that will be the case for much longer.” Daniel scowled and walked right past her. He opened the heavy wooden door and stood in the doorway, flanked by his two just as sizeable and powerful brothers.
He took in the men sitting around a large table.
“Your 3:00 p.m. has arrived, and I think you’ll find you’ve double-booked yourself, Senator,” Daniel said, walking into the room. Hunter and Fletcher followed. “See yourself out, gentlemen.”
The senator stared at them with outer calm, but Daniel knew he was anything but that. He had to give him points for his composure, but then again, the man was a politician and had many years of deceit under his belt.
Their eyes met and Daniel held his stare with far more chill. The senator twitched. That’s right, asshole, you aren’t getting a penny of Dufort money.
Mackenzie cleared his throat and his eyes drifted back to his guests.
“It appears my secretary has double-booked me today,” the senator said. “Please accept my apology, my future son-in-law and I have some important business to discuss.”
Daniel's jaw tensed.
The man was trying his patience. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fletcher roll his eyes, all fucking jerk.
Hunter held the door open for the other men who, after shaking hands farewell with the senator, began leaving. Nods were exchanged and then the door closed.
“What the fuck is this about?” the senator growled.
“Sit the fuck down!” Daniel roared.
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, son. Do you know who I am?”
From the other end of the table, Daniel leaned both his hands on the solid wood and narrowed his eyes at the man. “I am not your fucking son and never will be. Now sit. The. Fuck. Down.”
He stared at the man for a moment.
“Trust me when I say you do not want anyone outside this room hearing what we have to say, so if you won’t sit, I will open the door.”
There was a stare down for a few minutes and then the senator sat.
“You have three minutes.”
Daniel ignored the heroics and took a seat, Hunter, and Fletcher on either side of him.
