Chapter 7
JETT
I follow my father into his office, my footsteps echoing in the cold, sterile space. The walls are lined with dark wood shelves, displaying trophies of power—artifacts from deals that broke men and made him richer. His massive mahogany desk commands the center of the room, a monument to his authority. The city stretches out behind him through floor-to-ceiling windows, but there’s no warmth here. It’s all business. Just like him.
He drops into his chair with a weary sigh, irritation etched into every line on his face. “Tell me about Monaco.” He sounds like he’s bored already.
I don’t sit. I stay standing, arms crossed, jaw tight. “I was in the middle of a conversation with Cari.” My voice is sharper than I intend. I hate that I followed him here, like I always do, like I’m still that obedient son chasing his approval.
But I’m angrier at Cari, at the way she snapped at me earlier. She’s never talked to me like that before. I thought offering to buy more tickets would fix it, but she was pissed about missing that concert of hers. And yet I couldn't help but notice how she came alive when her temper got the better of her. A fire blazed in her eyes that made me take notice. Usually she sits quietly working away, head down. But seeing her all worked up, her breaths coming faster, her chest heaving a little in anger, I couldn't help but feel a lick of something tingling down my spine. Whatever it was, the unexpected arrival of my father poured water over it.
The man doesn’t even blink. “Monaco,” he repeats, his voice cold.
“You want to talk about Monaco?” My arms tighten across my chest. “How about you explain why you couldn’t make it to Brooke’s birthday party?”
His face doesn’t change, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. He pulls out his wallet, slips a hundred-dollar bill out, and slides it across the desk toward me. “Tell her Grandpa sent this.”
I stare at the bill like it’s poison. This man taught me that money solves everything, but I’m beginning to see that it’s not true. He wants me to accept that this bill makes up for his absence. I leave it sitting there. “Monaco worked out. The contracts were solid, and I signed the deal.”
“Good.” He leans back in his chair, looking like he’s finally gotten what he was after. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
I stand there, silent. Waiting for him to ask about Brooke. To ask how the party went, or hell, to even ask about her in general. But he doesn’t. He never does. He's shown about as much interest in her as he did in us when we were growing up.
“And you went with that ... that oncologist?” His voice drips with condescension.
My jaw clenches. He doesn’t even know her name. Also, he’s about two girlfriends behind. I dated the oncologist before I met Dina. “Alicia,” I say, teeth grinding. “Her name is Alicia. Try saying it. And she’s an attorney.”
He waves me off, like it doesn’t matter. “You always go for the brainy ones. Is it serious?”
I bristle at the pointed interest in her, every cell in my body preparing for battle. Something is up. “What’s it to you?”
“If it took you that long to answer, it can’t be serious.” His cold, steel-grey eyes hold mine.
My patience snaps. “Whatever it is, it’s none of your business.”
My father’s eyes narrow, his voice lowering to that icy tone I know too well. “If it’s just sex ...”
I flinch, my muscles locking up. That word, coming from him, makes my skin crawl. We don’t talk like this. We don’t talk about anything personal, ever. And not about this. It’s very rare for this man to care or ask about our personal lives. Paul Knight is only interested in brokering deals and growing the Knight empire. An uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach warns me that there’s something behind his inquiry.
I exhale sharply. “I don’t care what you’re thinking. Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
“Arminio Oliveira.” He throws the name out like it should mean something to me.
I frown, thrown off by the quantum jump in his conversation. “Who?”
“He’s the head of a telecoms empire in Brazil. You recall my visit to Brazil recently? I met with him, and I truly believe that we could do wonders if we join forces.”
What the hell? I try to connect the dots and fail. “Join forces? Are we going for another hostile takeover?”
His lips twitch into something resembling a smile, but there’s no humor behind it. “He has a daughter. A beautiful, Brazilian heiress. Unmarried. Not a dried-up spinster. Even I wouldn’t do that to you.”
A stone lands in my belly and sinks slowly as I stare at him silently, loathing taking up space inside me. No. I already know where this is going, and I’m not playing along. “No,” I reply as it all starts to make sense. This is about money. It’s always about money. A deal. Another way to grow Paul Knight’s empire. I want no part of this. I’m not averse to making money. We—Dex, Zach, and I, and the others, Rio, Matteo, and Enzo—all like making money. It’s what we know, what we’ve been taught. “Whatever you're thinking, forget it. “
“She’s young and beautiful—”
“Stop.” For one, I'm not in the market, two, I'm not interested, three, he keeps saying young but I'm thirty-three. “No. I said no .” I growl. My pulse thrums in my ears. This is what he wants me to do. “I’m not interested.”
“Think about it. Brooke needs a mother.” His words hit me like a sledgehammer, knocking the breath from my lungs.
“A mother, not a mail-order bride, or whatever the hell this is.”
“Think of it more like an arranged marriage. She’s beautiful, smart and business- minded. She studied in college here, and now works in her father’s business. You would have a lot in common. Our businesses could thrive. And … more importantly for you, Brooke would have a mother. How long are you going to stay—"
“You think someone that young is ready to become a mother to my daughter?” I glare at him, rage boiling under my skin. “As if you give a damn about Brooke.”
“We could form an alliance. The Knights and the Oliveiras.”
I’m intrigued at why he wants to make this match. “Why not just a straight up hostile takeover?” We've done many of those before. The Knights often favor that approach.
“It wouldn’t work as well, not in this situation. We don’t know the market, or the country. We’re foreigners in that world. It's far better to have those people in place there while we take care of things here. But the profits, the profits we could share equally.”
“Profits?” I scoff. “What about people? And feelings? Don't they matter? And what exactly do you mean by those people ?”
Dex hinted to me that the old man was up to something, but I never believed him. Turns out he was right.
“It would be an easier way to get the same result.”
“Easier, how?”
“Marry her. Keep it simple. You get a mother for Brooke and a wife for—”
“Keep it simple?” I bellow. “For fuck’s sake.” I slap a hand at the back of my neck.
“Brooke needs a mother,” the old man says casually.
“As if you care what my daughter needs,” I hiss.
His eyes flash, but his voice stays calm, controlled. “How dare you say that?”
“How old is she?” I challenge. It should be an easy question, given her recent birthday.
“Twenty-three, or twenty-four, something around that age—”
“Brooke,” I bite out. “How old is she ?”
Discomfort crawls in his eyes. “Six? Seven?”
My stomach turns. “She just turned five.” My words are ice. I stand up to leave, needing to get the hell away from this man. ? If I continue to do what he wants, I’ll end up no better than he is. A ruthless, philandering, monster who is hell bent on growing his billions with no thought for people. Our family is broken. I can’t end up like him, but at this rate, I’m on track to do just that. Brooke deserves so much more. I head toward the door.
“I’m not done with you, boy,” he snaps, but I hear desperation, not strength, in his voice.
“I’m done,” I growl. “You wanted to know about Monaco. Now you know.”
“I’m not done with you!” he shouts as I open the door.
“There’s nothing more to say. Don't talk to me about any alliances. I'm not interested. I'm very much in love with Alicia.” It sounds odd even saying it.
“Love? Don’t confuse sex with love,” he screams after me.
“Like you did?” I throw back as I storm out of the door.
“You'll regret this,” he snarls. That old son of a bitch.
I storm out. “I’m done with you,” I mutter under my breath. I don’t give a damn about his plans, his alliances, or his twisted idea of what’s best for Brooke. I walk past Cari’s desk and into my office. Slamming the door shut, I close my eyes and rest against the door, glad to be away from that monster who is my father. I don’t love Alicia. I never have. We get on. She’s good company and the sex is great, but I’m not in love with her. These feelings were hiding in my periphery, but the confrontation with my father has brought them to the surface.
I call Dex. He answers on the first ring.
“I just had a meeting with the old man,” I tell him.
“Lucky you,” Dex says.
“I swear he drains all my fucking energy.”
“That’s why I stay out of his way as much as I can.”
“Who the fuck is Arminio Oliveira?” I demand as I walk past Cari’s desk.
“He told you about that?” Dex sounds surprised.
“You knew?”
“Yeah. The old man wants you to marry his daughter as part of a business deal. Have an arranged marriage.”
“When the fuck were you going to tell me?”
“I’ve been trying to get you to meet me for a drink,” my younger brother shoots back.
I massage my temple gently, feeling a throbbing headache coming on. “I’ve been busy. Monaco, then Brooke’s birthday.”
“It’s insane. We live in the same building.”
He has a point. “So, you knew?” I ask, still in disbelief.
“Yeah. It’s part of a business alliance. He thinks it would be good for both companies. To have an arranged marriage between the guy’s daughter and only heir to the fortune, and one of us.”
“Of course he does,” I mutter, my anger bubbling over as I lean against the door. “What the hell is wrong with him?”
“Since you’re the oldest …” Dex drawls.
“Shut the fuck up.” I hate the sound of this. Our father can’t dictate the course of our lives. Not forever.
“Want to meet over a drink?” Dex offers.
“Maybe. Not today. I’ll call you.”
“There you go again, always too busy to meet me, brother. What if I came up to your place with a few bottles of beer? And a bottle of whiskey?”
“I want to spend time with Brooke. Maybe some other time.” I hang up and sink against the door, closing my eyes.
Paul Knight, my father. The man I loathe. A man who has no heart and never stops scheming.