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Less so on Amelia, but Aidan figured he had his reasons.
It was Andrew's recent behavior that was driving Aidan a little nuts.
Like all the Dufort men, Aidan was very successful. Even Jacob and Blake were extremely wealthy at the age of twenty-two and twenty-three.
While he respected his cousins and siblings for their achievements, Aidan had done something very few people had. He’d invented a piece of technology that was so impactful it touched nearly every human on earth.
He’d invented a microchip delivery housing.
Boring, yes.
Yet this small but mighty creation was now connected to every microchip in just about every single piece of technology used today.
In other words, a shit ton. Just ask his accountant.
Aidan was wealthier than Daniel, Hunter, and Fletcher combined. He just kept that little bit of information to himself.
Although he had a feeling, many of them were well aware.Forbestossed all their names about in random order, guessing most of the time.
Unlike Dufort Liquor—Logan’s business—and Dufort Hotels, Aidan’s income was not public knowledge.
And it was certainly far greater than his father’s.
Not that this was amy-bank-account-is-bigger-than-yoursgame, but the fact that he was now riding his ass about protecting his wealth was ludicrous.
It had started several months ago.
“When you choose a wife, Aidan, make sure she’s of good breeding.”
He’d nearly choked on his drink.
“Jesus, Dad. Did I just get transported to Downton Abbey?”
That had got him a dark glare.
“I’m not joking around. Who you marry is extremely important. A family like ours—now with your success—makes us one of the wealthiest in the United States,” Andrew had said.
At the time, it hadn’t surpassed him that his father had included his cousins in that total figure.
Aidan knew all his numbers.
“Relax. That’s what prenups are for.” He’d taken a casual sip of his Macallan.
“Aidan. I will not have some floozy joining this family. You’ll marry someone with a good standing in the community. Someone smart, educated, and committed to the Dufort name,” Andrew had said firmly.
Aidan had lowered his brows, squinting at the man, then shaken his head. “Thanks for the relationship advice, Dad, but I’ll marry someone I love. Someone I desire.”
Andrew had leaned forward on his elbows. “Listen to me, Aidan. This family is broken enough. I will not have a cast of former daughters-in-law taking chunks of our fortune and dancing off into the sunset a few years after you and your brothers have had a taste of their pussy.”
Gross.
Was this the sex talk he’d been waiting for all his life? Because, if so, it had gone down a completely different road than he’d been expecting.
“You’ll choose someone who understands what it means to join this family. And our way of life.”
Rich folk, in other words.
Aidan had let his father rant. When he got in a stubborn mood, there was no stopping him.
