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"Of course," he scoffs. "What else would I give you? You've been conducting your own sect of the family there for years now. You're growing your own. You've made me proud, son." He tilts his head as a wistful smile pulls his lips apart. "And now, it's yours."
"I appreciate it, Sir," I say, running my finger over my name listed as the new man in charge of operations and, well, everything.
I’m the new owner with deed in hand.
"As my only son and heir, I figured you needed a little piece of the action." I swallow hard, staring at my father, maybe for the first time.
My relationship with him has always been a little strained. More on the professional side than personal. I'll be forever grateful that he brought me into this world, but I've seen how he handles his business.
"I've viewed the numbers on several occasions. It's a booming business, Sir. It's very generous of you to trust me."
"A present," he says, waving a hand. "A sign of my trust in you."
Pfft. Trust in me?
This new adventure he’s handing me on a silver platter is more likely a way for him to anchor me to this place and watch my every move—ever the paranoid asshole. My father may think I'm just a child, still only twenty-one, but I have my head screwed on better than anyone else I know. Besides Shepp, and maybe Arrow on a good day. They’re my family. The men who help me on this journey through life.
My eyes wander over the contract trying to find the holes he may have placed there. I swallow hard, skimming the words and finding everything straightforward and present. I sign my name and hand it back to the man with his hand out.
"And what about Journey?" I ask, masking the hope I've held onto when he first presented me with the arranged marriage he somehow set up with her mom.
"After the initiation ball, the wedding will commence. And other announcements will be made," he says, cocking his head. "Maybe bring her along? After your initiation, she's yours for the taking," he questions with a smirk.
My heart pounds against my ribs. He's giving me the green light to take the girl I've been forbidden to speak to or interact with for years. But other announcements? Maybe he’s referring to Chloe Satin and her family. Although, I’m not quite sure how she fits into everything. Surely, he’d mention her being presented to Arrow or Shepp. Right?
"I can make her come," I say, grinning at the prospect of holding her close to me and dancing the night away.
"Then, it's settled. Enjoy the nightclub. I'll see you, her, and the boys when we celebrate the men you've become," he says, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a Shadow to track down. Keep your nose to the ground, boy, and ears open."
"Yes, Sir," I say, standing as he walks out of his office without looking back at me.
For someone with so little trust in people, he really has no problem turning his back on me when I’m in his domain. No matter. The cameras everywhere prove I won’t snoop through his desk.
Besides, I have a nightclub to take ownership of.
Muffled music leaks through the large window overlooking the crowd below, as I settle back into the oversized leather chair with a frown. I gently twirl the lit cigar between my fingers, watching as the smoke drifts from the hot cherry end.
The club below us is packed with bodies dancing and gyrating to the thumping music vibrating straight through me. It’s our usual spot on nights when the family business doesn’t need us—Rave. The very club we’ve run as a team since we were eighteen, taking over day-to-day operations from Jericho’s father.
And now? He’s named Jericho as the owner and operator.
Our VIP room never fails to settle the discourse rattling around in my brain. It seems to be the only place I can outrun the demons, constantly gnawing at my mind. Between the chips on the poker table or the money exchanging hands with loans, this is my home away from home—my sanctuary.
“I don’t understand the appeal,” Jericho mutters, sucking in the flavor of the cigar and then blowing it out with disgust.
“It makes you look important,” Arrow offers, eyeing his like it might bite him “See?” He grins, bringing it up to his lips and leaving it there while he sits back on the leather sofa, resting next to me.
“There are no listening bugs in here, Sir.” My eyes find Aiden standing at attention with a detector in his hand. “This room is clear.” He swallows hard, looking between the three of us with an unwarranted amount of anxiety.
He’s agitated and possibly a little frightened.
Strange.
Jericho nods in his direction with gratitude. Good. I wouldn’t put it past Jericho’s father to bug the entire place in hopes of catching us doing something behind his back. Or saying something he may not like. His paranoia will eat him alive one day.
“And the rest of the club?” Jericho asks, raising a brow.
“Brandon and I will sweep the entire premises when it closes and everyone has left. We know Gabriel has always had heavy security, including guards and cameras throughout the place.”
