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Max’s officeis on the top floor of the building. The only offices I see up here are his and the head coach’s. Jesus. These people have more elaborate offices than I’ve ever seen.
They exude money and power.
Don’t get me wrong, I do well for myself.
I was a lucky enough bastard to be born to a well-off family. But my parents made sure we knew how important a good work ethic was in life, that we were never afraid to work hard. And that’s what I’ve done. First as a marine, then as a fighter. Fighting made me more money than even Brynlee’s kids should be able to spend in their lifetimes so long as I keep investing it well.
But the Kingstons are in a stratosphere all to themselves.
They’re in the top tier of the 1 percent.
Max has a corner office overlooking the entire Kings stadium. There’s a desk with two chairs opposite it, a table with four chairs surrounding it, and a couch with another two more chairs at the back of the office. My office in Crucible could fit in here at least three times with room to spare.
The credenza behind his desk looks much the same as Scarlet’s but with more family photos. The Kingston kids throughout the years. In jerseys. On the field. As adults, and in the owner’s box. And a single picture from Sam and Amelia’s wedding last year. Sam and his bride stand in the middle of a line of happy Kingston siblings. And my friend is smiling. Never thought I’d see a picture of that.
Proof Sam Beneventi is happy.
Lucky bastard.
Taking a seat in the sleek leather chair across from Max’s desk, I wait.
It doesn’t take long before he walks through the door and shuts it tightly behind him. “Thanks for waiting, Cade.” Max takes a seat behind his sleek desk. “Hudson mentioned that Crucible was sponsoring an exhibition to raise money for veterans.”
“Yeah. We’ve been running it for a few years now. It’s scheduled for the last Saturday in July. All of the money is split between a few different organizations that help out struggling vets in Philly.” I was lucky enough to have my family here when I came home. Without them and the gym, I’m not sure how I’d have survived that first year.
“How are you doing with sponsors? Donations?”
“We’re doing okay. Imogen’s been taking care of most of the details.” I really should give my sister a raise.
Max writes something down on a sticky note, then tears it off and hands it to me. “That’s the name of the woman who runs King Corp.’s charitable division. If you need any help, give her a call. Tell her I sent you.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I fold the note and place it in my wallet, then look back at Max, who’s writing something on his desk. I’m surprised when he hands me a check. Not a King Corp. check but a personal check. With a whole lotta zeros. “What’s this?”
Max stands. “It’s my donation. I’d like it to remain anonymous, if possible. Hudson’s told me about the programs you run for veterans at Crucible.” He crosses his arms over his chest and takes stock. “It’s impressive. And yet... you don’t boast. You don’t publicize. You don’t use it to draw in more clients.”
I sense there’s more he wants to say but isn’t sure how to say it.
“You got a question for me, Max, just ask it. It’ll stay here, between us.”
He moves around the desk to face me. Max Kingston’s a big guy. Not as big as me but big enough. He’s broad. He probably works out with a trainer a few days a week. But none of that intimidates me.
It’s his presence that’s impressive.
The way he wears his power.
He’s the man at the top of a family empire.
And he owns it and all the power that comes with it.
“You’re in love with my sister.” His voice leaves no room for question.
He’s not mad like Hudson.
He’s not curious like Rylie.
Max isn’t a man who’s accustomed to asking questions unless he already knows the answers.
He controls. He commands.
