The Arranged Series: Books 1-3 (Zorics #1)

Prologue

STEFAN

I’m the kind of man who lives for control.

From the office to the bedroom, domination is my instinct—and I show no mercy when it comes to getting what I want. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that when I take charge, I always close the deal. And I never hear any complaints.

Not from my employees and sure as hell not from my women.

Tonight would be no exception. The handshakes, the easy grins, the raised glasses of high-end booze: it was all a means to an end as far as I was concerned.

One more move on the chessboard, and one step closer to controlling KZ Modeling, the company my father had founded. The company he still controlled.

For now.

I leaned back in my chair, taking in the room.

My father’s penthouse was luxury defined, and his private office was expansive, its richness accentuated by polished wood paneling and antiques.

Never-read first editions lined the walls.

Every object, down to the Waterford paperweights, was costly and rare.

Just like everything my father treasured.

I checked the time on my Patek Philippe. “He’s late.”

“He’ll be here.”

Behind his desk, my father—Konstantin Zoric—poured himself a scotch.

Macallan 25 Year, because in our world, image is everything.

He cut an imposing figure in his signature monochrome charcoal.

People said I looked like him, but most of the men in our family had the same dark hair, square jaw, full lips and olive skin.

He gestured toward me, offering me a glass. I took it but didn’t drink. Normally I’d go through the motions, act like I was one of the boys, but I needed a clear head going into this.

“Ah, here he is,” my father said as he stood to greet our guest.

An athletic, middle-aged man with ice blue eyes and gray streaks at his temples had been ushered into the office.

His suit was well-made, cleanly tailored to his body.

His tie was red. His lapel pin was an American flag.

If I didn’t already recognize him from television, I still would have assumed he belonged in politics.

The self-satisfied smirk was the cherry on top.

“Senator Lindsey, this is my eldest son, Stefan,” my father said, making the introductions.

“Welcome,” I said, already standing. I shook the senator’s hand, matching the strength of his grip. “A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Senator.”

He gave me a long, assessing look.

“Indeed,” he said, revealing nothing. “Glad you could make it.”

“Sit, sit! Let’s raise a toast to our joint venture,” my father said, passing a glass to Lindsey. “And to Stefan, entering fully into the family business at last.”

“And what a business it is,” the senator said. He eased into the plush leather. “You’ve got quite the little operation going. And KZM’s support is gonna go a long way toward securing—”

“The company is hardly small,” my father interrupted. He affected good humor, but I caught the edge in his voice, saw the way his shoulders drew back. “Tell me, Senator, can you name any other agency in the northern hemisphere that even comes close to the number of—”

Diplomacy has never been my father’s strong suit. “?iveli,” I cut in, raising my glass.

They lifted theirs, echoing their cheers, and we drank, the tension dissipating.

“Nice scotch,” Senator Lindsey said, after downing half his drink. “Macallan?”

My father grinned. “None other, my friend.”

“I usually prefer an American brand,” Lindsey went on, swirling the liquor around in his glass, “but what the hell.” He drained the rest and flashed his teeth at us.

I smiled back, put on a good face, but I was assessing the senator on my own. Looking for any signs of hesitation, a crack in the brisk facade.

What kind of man agreed to a deal like this?

Then I remembered that I was the kind of man who agreed to a deal like this. In fact, I was at the center of this deal, even if it hadn’t been my idea. But there was no other way.

“I think you’ll be very pleased with the terms of our agreement, Stefan,” the senator said smugly as my father poured him another drink.

“Oh, I will,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll all be coming out on top.”

We all shared a laugh at the innuendo. It was exactly the kind of talk that disgusted me. But I knew how to play the game.

“My son is very eager for this merger to take place,” my father added with a wink.

“No doubt. Keeping his eyes on the prize.” Lindsey turned to me. “Trust me when I say, you won’t regret this. And neither will I, I hope.”

I took a hard swallow of my drink. “We don’t deal in regrets here.”

“Only success!” my father added, gesturing around the lavish room like it was proof that he’d never tasted failure. “One conquest after another.”

“That’s what I like about you, Konstantin,” the senator said. “Always confident.”

“Always right,” my father corrected.

They exchanged the grins of men who had no qualms when it came to breaking out the Machiavellian tactics. Even if that meant manipulating the people closest to them.

Was I really any better?

Suddenly the room felt hot and small. Ridiculous considering the total square footage, and the fact that the temperature was always set at a cool 65 degrees. Still, I fought the urge to loosen my tie, reminding myself that the terms I’d agreed to would be worth it in the end.

I wasn’t a man who could afford to have second thoughts.

After all, this deal was the only way I’d convince my father to hand over the company. Even though I wouldn’t have full control, not yet—this was just my opportunity to step in as his right-hand man. A job I should have had years ago, after I got my MBA.

Frustrated, I took another gulp of the scotch in my glass. One drink wouldn’t hurt. It might even take the edge off.

My father could have put me in charge of KZM right out of grad school.

I knew the business inside and out, and I finally had the degree from U Penn to back it up.

Instead, he’d shuffled me from one management role to the next, the executive positions just out of reach, making promises he never kept.

Until now. When he needed me to make a sacrifice for the greater good.

But now that a leadership role would be officially mine, I could start making moves. And once I was in charge…

I drank, not wanting to get ahead of myself. First step: Finalizing this deal.

“Cigar?” my father asked, pulling out a box of hand rolled Cohibas.

“Certainly.” The senator retrieved one, taking the time to smell it. Savor it.

Cigars had never been my thing; my mother had always hated the smell. It was one of the few things I remembered about her.

My father and the senator clipped and lit their cigars, reveling in the richness of it all amid talk of local politics. I topped off my scotch and took another drink. A long drink.

“…don’t you think so, Stefan?” my father was saying.

I grinned easily. “Without a doubt.” I was never this distracted. I had no idea what I’d just agreed with him on, and my collar felt too tight. Impossible, since my suits were custom made to fit me perfectly.

Morality be damned. I’d been working for this far too long to back off now. My dreams. My goals. My control. They were all within my grasp.

Even if people got hurt in the process.

“To our…mutually beneficial partnership,” my father said, getting up to refill our glasses.

“To a powerful union,” I added. I stood with my drink raised. Committing fully.

Clearly not wanting to be outdone, the senator said, “To the start of a beautiful relationship.” He winked at me as he rose from his chair.

I forced a smile. True to form, this meeting had devolved into a dick-measuring contest.

“To KZ Modeling,” I said.

“To family!” my father threw in, insistent as always on having the last word.

The senator laughed. “Indeed. To family.” We clinked our glasses and he clapped me on the back so hard I almost stumbled. “Welcome to the family.”