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I wondered what Chris had done now. My father only came to see me when it was about him.
"Good morning, Father." I forced a smile at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The tension in the room. Sophia lingered, staring between us.
"We need to talk." He glanced at her over his shoulder. His expression tightened. "What are you still doing here? Do you need me to show you to the door? Get out."
She looked taken aback by the words. My blood boiled.
"Don't talk to her that way," I warned him darkly with a glare. I turned to Sophia, apologetic. "Thank you, Miss Bennett. You can leave us alone now."
Her eyes flashed to mine momentarily before she nodded. "Of course." She left the room with a quiet "Excuse me."
"How dare you come to my company and talk to my secretary like that?"
"I'll speak to anyone however I damn well please," was my father's reply. He took a seat on the leather couch in my office and crossed his legs.
"No, you'll treat all my employees with respect. Especially her."
He scoffed. "I didn't come here to talk about insipid things, Alexander." He continued before I could cut in. "I came to talk about your brother."
It was my turn to scoff. Speaking of dull things. "Sophia is not insipid." I stepped out from behind my desk and walked closer to him. "You only ever talk about Chris. That’s probably the only reason you're here today. When have you ever spoken to me without it having to do with him?"
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "What has that idiot done this time?"
"He crashed a two-million-dollar Lamborghini."
My eyes widened and my head snapped back up. "Is he…"
"He's fine," my father answered before I could get the whole question out.
My shoulders sagged in relief at that. "He wasn't badly hurt, but he was drunk. He had a concussion for a few days, and he was in the hospital. He just got discharged and now he's in jail. He's been at the station since yesterday."
"I'm surprised you let him stay that long.”
"I figured a night at the station might straighten him out a bit."
Another scoff left me. "You can't try and parent him after twenty-seven years of not giving a shit about him."
"I'm not going to have this same argument with you, Alexander."
"Then why are you here? You've told me about Chris, what's next? Going to yell at me for not doing your job and taking care of him? Isn't that how all our meetings go?"
"I've gotten tired of reminding you about how much of a failure you are. I think I'll skip over it this time."
"You're too kind." I gestured to the door with disinterest. "You can save your breath and just leave. I don't have time for this. I have work to do. I trust I don't need to show you where the door is." I began walking back to my desk.
"You really disappoint me, Alexander."
I paused and then, slowly, turned back around to face him. It was a sentence I'd heard before. Countless times. Yet it still made my jaw clench, and my fists shake with rage.
I knew what would happen if I retaliated. If I said how I felt. This wasn't an argument I would win. Still, I couldn't stop the words from tumbling out.
"I disappoint you? Me? I run a successful multibillion-dollar software company. My brother crashed an expensive car. Yet, somehow, I'm the disappointment and he's the golden son. Why do I always get blamed when Chris screws up? I can't tell him what to do. I can't control him."
I pointed at the wall as if my brother was standing there. "He was the one that accidentally set the house on fire when were kids, but I was the one who got grounded. He broke Mom's favorite vase, but I got yelled at. He crashed a two-million-dollar Lambo, but I'm the one at fault. I'm the one that did something wrong. Not Chris. Never Chris."
"Don't raise your voice at me, Alexander."
