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DARE
The musty scent of oak and leather greets me as I stride through the front doors of Morgan Manor. My boots echo across marble floors, a familiar cadence I’ve known since childhood.
“Remy!” I call out, my voice reverberating in the cavernous foyer. No answer. The old man’s probably tucked away in his study, scheming as always.
I spot Magda dusting the banister, her worn blue uniform reminding me of happier times. “He’s not here, Mr. Dare. Gone to Montana, Clive says.”
Of course. Remy always did prefer the wilderness when troubled waters churned in the family. My fingers curl into fists, nails biting into flesh. He can’t hide from me forever.
I stalk towards the study, Magda’s protests fading behind me. The room is dim, heavy curtains drawn. My eyes sweep over leather-bound books, cognac swirling in a crystal decanter, a half-smoked cigar resting in an ashtray.
There, on Remy’s massive oak desk: a single yellowed envelope. My name scrawled across the front in a shaky cursive.
I snatch it up, pulse quickening as I tear through the seal. A single sheet of paper flutters onto the desk, three words stark against pristine vellum.
You’re cut off.
“You son of a bitch,” I hiss, crumpling the note in my fist. He can’t do this. He won’t get away with it.
I’ll find a way to make him pay, consequences be damned. The company is mine, and I’ll stop at nothing to take back what’s rightfully mine.
Power above all else. That’s the Morgan way. I might be trying to shape the future of the Morgan family, but that mantra is etched in my blood.
The study door creaks open behind me. I whirl around, note crumpled in my fist, as Clive steps inside.
“My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to startle you.” His gaze darts to the note in my hand, brows knitting together. “Is everything alright?”
I force a smile, smoothing the note against my thigh. “Just fine, Clive. Has my uncle arrived yet?”
“Yes. Mr. Felix is having a drink in the living room.” Clive’s lips purse in a frown, aged eyes peering into my own. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I have known you since you were a boy. If there’s anything troubling you, I hope you know you can confide in me.”
The urge rises to tell him everything, to confess my fears and seek solace from the man who raised me as his own. But I can’t drag Clive into this mess. He’s given enough to this family.
I place a hand on his shoulder, hoping to convey what words cannot. “You’ve always been there for me, Clive. Thank you. But this is a private family matter that must remain between me and my uncle.”
Clive nods, a flicker of sorrow in his eyes. “I understand.”
With a steadying breath, I stride into the parlor. Felix leaps up from an armchair, pupils dilated despite the ample lighting. The sickly sweet scent of bourbon clings to him like a shroud.
“Dare, finally! We have much to discuss regarding the company. This deal with the Norwegians is too good to pass up, and if we don’t act quickly—”
“The company is no longer your concern,” I interrupt, fixing him with a hard stare. “Remy has made it perfectly clear that if I want the inheritance, I can’t continue to do business with you. I’ll write you a small severance check if you promise to cease all activity on my behalf.” I pause, narrowing my eyes. “And if you go near those Norwegians, I’ll see to it that you never work in this town again.”
“What?” Felix blanches, eyes bulging. “You can’t do this! The company is mine, you ungrateful brat. I made that company what it is today, not you or your pathetic excuse of a brother! I should be in charge!”
“The company is going to be well taken care of.” I take a menacing step forward, relishing the fear etched into the lines of his face. “But not by you. You’re done here, Uncle. Get out of my sight before I call the authorities.”
Felix stumbles back a step, then turns on his heel and storms out. The front door slams shut behind him.
The throne will bemine. And God help anyone who tries to take it from me.
I shake off the remnants of Felix's toxic presence and make my way to the library. The familiar scent of aged leather and mahogany calms my frayed nerves.
Here in this room, my grandfather had taught me the intricacies of business over games of chess. "Think three moves ahead," he would say. "Anticipate your opponent's every maneuver. Only then will you truly be in control."
Remy may have the title of CEO for now, but his time is running out. It's my move, and when the board is clear, the company will be mine.
A soft knock on the open doorway interrupts my musings. Rob pokes his head in, brow knitted with concern. "Mr. Morgan, I've just had a call from Hope House. It seems there's been an incident with Solana."
