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"You're right." He pauses. "Bailey... she is excellent at what she does, there's no denying that, but Logan," he says, "this isn't just about who's the most competent. This is also about legacy. The business... It's got our name on it." His eyes bore into mine.
Things are getting serious and I'm about to stir shit up even more.
"Dad... I've decided to pursue my music career. It's time I follow my own path and passions."
His face reddens, and I can see the frustration building. "You're letting the family name down, Logan. Bailey might be good, but this is our family's business. If you won't take the reins, then Ethan will."
My patience snaps at the sound of 'Ethan will'.
"Go against the family? Like Ethan has done time and time again? You're seriously considering handing the company over to him rather than Bailey? That's insane!"
"That's the crazy idea here, Logan? Your music?" Dad's words hit me like a punch in the gut. I can see the disappointment in his eyes, and it fuels my anger.
"If you knew anything about me, if you knew who I really am, you wouldn't call it 'crazy'. You think because it's not business, it's not important?"
My dad’s brows narrow at my defense. "If you were a better father, you'd want your son to follow his heart, not follow in your footsteps, becoming your fucking puppet."
I stand, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. "You'd support me, not try to mold me into some corporate place that I don't fit!" I slam my fist on his desk.
"You know what, Dad? Do whatever you want." I push off from the desk, my chair squealing against the marble floor. "I'm done."
I storm out of his office, the door slamming shut behind me.
* * *
The day'swork is over. Bailey hadn't been in today, her schedule was busy with meetings, outside the office, far from me. It was better that way.
My head hurts still from the heated conversation with my father. The bitter words that were thrown around the room still echo in my mind. The raw frustration still boiling inside me, reminding me that old scores need settling.
Recklessness seeps into my veins.
Fuck it.
I have nothing left to lose.
I grab my coat, head out of the door, and make my way to Ethan's.
It is time we had a chat.
As I pull up to Ethan's building, it feels all too familiar. It's been years since I've been here. And it hasn't changed one bit.
Ethan's taste in real estate matches his personality—dark and cold.
This place leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
The doorman, still stands guard like he did years ago. As I walk up, shock crosses his worn face.
"Logan?" he stutters out, as if he's seeing a ghost.
"Good to see you, Joe. Send me up to Ethan's, will you?"
Joe nods, still taken aback, but sets the elevator for Ethan's penthouse suite.
As the doors slide closed, I can see him shaking his head, no doubt wondering what could bring me back to this place after all these years.
Stepping out of the elevator, my fists clench automatically.
As I walk in, Ethan's voice comes from his office. He's on the phone.
