Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“I became a mother to Ally overnight. At least, that’s how I feel now,” I had said.
I shared with him about Sidney being my best friend. My best friend who helped me claw my way out of despair. Sidney helped me get a new apartment in a better neighborhood for Ally.
“I would’ve never been able to afford it if she hadn’t moved in with us,” I confided in him.
We worked together to keep my teenage sister in line as she moved through junior high into high school. We’re still working together to keep her on track to graduate and get into the conservatory she’s been dreaming about.
“I’m in awe of you. You’ve always been so mature for your age,” Brodi said while looking into my eyes.
My heart swelled. I believed his words. For a week, I talked and talked, sharing my life with him. Never once did I think that at the end of the week, when it was time to go home, he would devastate my world all over again.
I’ve barely been holding my shit together in the last month since I walked out of that hotel suite. Now this.
I could never ask Sid to see me through this. I have Ally to worry about, I made a promise. My career is still so new. I’m so fucked, and I didn’t know what else to do.
“I hate you, Brodi. You made me a killer,” I sob as I wrap my middle with my arms and curl into a tighter ball. “I never want to see you again.”
Chapter 3
The Ultimatum
Gregor
Five and a half years later…
Steam is coming out of my ears as I ride up in the elevator of the penthouse building my brothers and I own. This was one of Cane’s better ideas. A place where we could be close to one another and have each other’s backs.
We’ve always been close because we grew up in the same bullshit environment. I’d do anything for my brothers. At thirty-eight, I’m the oldest. I have Clay by two years and Cane by ten, but you would think Clay was the oldest.
He took to the role of protector early in life. He hated when Dad would chastise me. As small as he was, he would talk back to Dad before he had any real words to speak.
Leave Brodi. Good boy.
The memory of Clay’s defiant phase brings a smile to my lips for the first time in weeks. However, it’s short lived as the elevator dings and the doors open. I step off and loosen my tie as I move forward.
It looks like we’re heading into battle again with dear old Dad. The man doesn’t know how to concede defeat. We earned the right to be the men we are. He’s wrong for this.
“You want me to wait out here?” Ethan asks as we get to the front door of Clay’s penthouse.
I nod at my head of security. “You can head down to your level. I don’t think I’m heading out again tonight.”
He pats me on my shoulder and returns the nod. I’ve known Ethan since junior high school. He’s as close to me as one of my brothers. He knows all my secrets, even the ones I’m too embarrassed and ashamed to tell my family.
I pull the key card for my brother’s place and open the door. When I step into Clay’s living room, I find Cane standing in front of the fireplace with a scowl on his face. Clay is sprawled out on the couch with his head back. He runs a hand through his thick red locks before lifting his head and locking eyes with me.
I stare into gray eyes just like mine. The only real difference in looks between me and my brothers is our hair. I’m the only strawberry blond. Both Clay and Cane have dark-red hair. They both took after Dad.
Clay stands, blowing out a breath. “Let’s head into my office. I have everything in there,” he says and grabs his tumbler of brandy from the coffee table.
I grunt and start after him as Cane brings up the rear. He’s surprisingly silent given the circumstances. At twenty-eight, I don’t think he’s any more ready to get married and run Dad’s company than we are.
I work my jaw as I take a wide stance and stand in front of Clay’s desk as he takes a seat behind it. He closes the file that’s always on top of his desk. The one on Sidney James.
Moving it aside, he pushes forward what looks like the same docs that were delivered to me. I glare at the pages, picking them up. The terms are the same as the ones given to me.
This can’t be happening. Clooney Hennessy is one relentless old bastard. We should have seen this coming.
“How the fuck did he pull this off?” I seethe as I look down at the copy of the papers my father’s lawyers served me.