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Trey Marshall whipped his hand through his hair and growled under his breath. They were in the middle of a huge hostile takeover, and now they had to drop everything and go and be judges for some small-town award shit in the middle of damn nowhere.
“They’re fucking kidding, right?” Isaac stormed into his office, followed closely by Chance, who asked the exact same thing.
“They’re not,” Trey said. “Fuck.”
“They wouldn’t go through with their threats, would they? Even this is ridiculous for them. It’s fucking insane,” Isaac added more to pacify himself, and Isaac was usually the calmer of the three of them. Their voice of reason.
He could talk anyone into doing anything on the planet for him, no matter what insane thing it was. Whether it was to press the launch button or not. He had the kind of deep tone that made people hang onto every word he said.
But seeing him rattled over this made things worse since he was normally the one who contained the situation with easy causal logic.
Trey was the opposite. He demanded no one speak to him because people very seldom had important things to say to him. One look from him was enough to scare the shit out of anyone and have them scrambling to do his unspoken bidding. He preferred being unapproachable. He relished evoking fear as he walked.
“Have you met those three? They’re fucking nuts,” Chance said, giving a mirthless laugh before shaking his head in wonder. Chance, on the other hand, was an A-class playboy who had that ability where he made people trip over themselves trying to give him what they thought he wanted, which ended up being everything. He was a guy’s friend and a woman's god. And no one knew whether they were his enemy or his friend until he thought it was necessary for them to know the difference.
But thetheyin question just happened to be their grandmothers. The matriarchs of the family decided to drop in on them on a whim and create their own brand of havoc.
MGC Industries was an empire forged out of the union of three powerful families more than two hundred years ago, producing generational wealth of epic proportions.
The Marshalls, the Glovers, and the Clarks together had been the richest enterprise in the world since the inception of MGC Industries. Their conglomerates spanned everything from mining to real estate, technology, and hospitality. Their brand was impeccable. And not to mention their individual wealth totaled in the billions for each of them.
But under Trey, Isaac, and Chance’s leadership at MGC, their reputations for being fearless, powerful, and not to be messed with superseded them all across the world. No one double-crossed them. No one would ever dare unless they had a wish for total annihilation.
Before they took the helm at MGC, they had joined the military and were specially trained agents for a secret government unit. They still kept their bodies in perfect shape for maximum effectiveness—lethal machines in bespoke suits—which contributed to the fact that no one tried to dope them simply because their opponents knew what they were capable of.
Of course, now it was just an aura. They left their lethal work on the field, but that didn’t make them soft. When they straightened to their full height and cast their deadly glower on those misguided to take them, heads were bound to roll.
But fuck, when it came to their grandmothers, they could be twice as tall, and no amount of glowering had the ability to scare those women off.
It didn’t help that they loved those women equally as fiercely, whose friendship among the three of them spanned more than seventy-five years—as old as they were.
There wasn’t much they could refuse their grandmothers, well, except when they got it into their heads that their grandsons marry brides, they had already hand-picked for them immediately and supply them with grand babies at once. They’d dodged that catastrophe the year before by telling their grandmothers they would do anything they asked, but they just weren’t going to get married.
It wasn’t who they were. They just weren’t the marrying type. Their sole focus was MGC, and just before they ran out of time, they’d already planned to produce heirs, but that still didn’t mean they would have to get married.
They didn’t believe in marriage, and their parents were prime examples of why it didn’t work. They were miserable together. One of them loved too much, and the other too little or not at all. All three of their fathers cheated repeatedly on each of their wives, but then again, their mothers weren’t exactly innocent either. Why did they get married if they still fucked around?
While the bond between Trey, Isaac, and Chance was strong and unbreakable, and they weren’t always mirror images of each other, this was one thing they believed in completely and unwaveringly. There wasn’t a woman out there they could love enough to give up their bachelor status for, and if there was, the three of them would have met those three women already.
But now, after returning from a world tour, their grandmothers, surely out of boredom, decided to turn their attention to their three grandsons.
Last year, when they refused their arranged marriages, they made an amateur mistake by saying they would do anything else but get married. Now, their grandmothers were here to collect.
And how?
With the most mundane thing in the universe. What did they know about judging small towns enough to decide a winner?
“We know as much about small towns as we do about sewing a … fucking wedding dress,” Chance grumbled, answering Trey’s thought. They knew absolutely nothing about it.
Isaac took a breath. “We have no way out of this. We made a deal with the devils, and they got us.”
Isaac was right.
“Six fucking days in the middle of fucking nowhere?” Chance asked, disbelieving.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Trey could allow whoever it was into his office, a tall, stiffly dressed woman in a turtleneck and skirt entered.
Agnus Holstrom.
