Page 34 of His to Take

He only had a few minutes. But in those minutes, Dylan made sure that Logan Marsh would never forget what he'd done.

At the long, polished table in Ajax's private restaurant, the air was thick with tension. Senator Howell Marsh, Zane Thorne, and their respective teams engaged in stilted conversation.

Ajax's place was meant as a place for Thorne men to unwind, but tonight it was putting on slightly higher airs. It wasn't exactly the sort of place that Marsh usually patronized — but when it came to being wined and dined by the Thornes, discretion was the better part of valor.

And Ajax knew very well that right now there was another reason that Marsh wanted to stay away from the media.

"Here's to the senator and his relentless pursuit of progress," one of Marsh's goons toasted, though it was evident that the sentiment wasn't entirely heartfelt.

Ajax raised his glass and took a sip of his wine, his face neutral, giving nothing away. But as they drank, Ajax couldn't help but notice the conspicuous absence of a certain shitbag son.

Marsh grumbled into his drink, clearly unimpressed. "At least my campaign staff can be counted on," he huffed, setting his glass down with a thud. He scowled. "But my son... Can you believe he got so high that he... Well!" He trailed off, leaving the gruesome details unsaid.

"Such a shame," he grumbled, toying with the stem of his wine glass. "All my hopes for a line of grandsons, dashed in one foolish decision."

Ajax couldn't help but notice he'd saidgrandsons, as though granddaughters held no value at all. The mood on Marsh's side of the table was growing increasingly tense.

Zane attempted to smooth out the atmosphere. "Well, Senator, I hear people are doing wonderful things with IVF these days. Truly remarkable advancements. I'm sure your son's… accident won't stop your family legacy."

"It's not the same," Marsh huffed. Ajax fought the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the conversation, but kept his expression serious.

Dylan had really hit Logan where it hurt. The little shit would think twice before he tried to pull any of his shit again.

A clanging noise erupted from behind the closed kitchen door, shattering the somber atmosphere. Marsh's eyes narrowed. "What in god's name is that racket?"

"My apologies, Senator," Ajax said with a slight bow of his head. "We've just hired some new staff, and they're still finding their feet. Please excuse me for a moment." He left Marsh to stew in his indignation, complaining about the younger generation's lack of discipline.

Ajax slipped through the kitchen door silently, the sounds of conversation from the dining room fading behind him. The heat of the kitchen enveloped him, the air thick with the aroma of spices and simmering sauces.

His eyes scanned the staff, seeking out his regular cooks. Good, dependable guys.

And there, in between them, hustling hard over a hot oven, was Dylan.

Ajax watched as Dylan listened attentively to the head cook's instructions, nodding and quickly adapting his technique. It wasimpressive how well Dylan had integrated himself into the team, considering his background.

Ajax felt a surge of pride and a sense of peace – this was where Dylan belonged, among people who had each other's backs and took pride in their work.

Dylan turned, finally spotting Ajax. He jumped a little, momentarily surprised, and the others followed his gaze, turning in equal surprise.

"Hey, boss," they greeted in unison.

"Evening, boys," Ajax replied, his voice calm and measured. "I just wanted to check on our new hire."

The others exchanged amused glances before one chimed in, "Well, you know, he's not as fast as we are, but he's got potential."

"Potential?" Another scoffed playfully. "He's lucky we're here to show him the ropes. Don't worry, though, boss, we'll have him whipped into shape in no time."

"Very funny," Dylan scowled, but there was a hint of pride in his eyes as he accepted their teasing. It was clear that he was enjoying being part of the team, and the camaraderie that came with it.

The warmth in Ajax's chest grew as he watched Dylan, his fierce little fighter, working diligently alongside the others. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride seeing how well Dylan was adapting to this new environment.

"I can't believe we're having to cook for that asshole, though," Dylan scowled. "I hope he chokes on it."

There was a glint in Dylan's eyes. Ajax knew that that wasn't a good sign. "Behave yourself."

"Me?" Dylan shot him a sweet, cherubic smile. "You know me, I always behave myself. I'm an angel."

That was a lie. Angels didn't act likethatin the bedroom.

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