40. Landon
40
Landon
D ario’s taunt echoed around my head. He’d tapped into my insecurities with aplomb. Now that my father had cut me off without a penny, I had nothing except my looks and sparkling personality to keep me afloat.
The only talent I had was seducing women. Something my dad had long since recognized. Thanks to my natural charisma, women buzzed around me like flies on a steaming pile of manure, eager for whatever I could offer them. As the heir to the Rothmore family fortune, built over centuries of fortuitous allegiances and canny business deals, my dance card was always full at parties.
Ever since I came of age, Dad had used this to his advantage, sending me off to charm and seduce women who were useful to him. Many of the women I’d slept with were married and didn’t want their husbands to know.
Blackmail was a powerful tool in the wrong hands. Apply a little pressure, and threaten to release a video or photographs. People always caved in eventually.
I stared as steaming hot water cascaded over my head. Dad had called me this afternoon. Left me a voicemail, which I’d picked up when we arrived.
The message had been to the point. If I did this one thing for him, he’d forgive my transgressions and welcome me back into the family fold with open arms. Restore my credit cards and pay my tuition at Abernethy for another year.
At first glance, agreeing to his demand seemed like the sensible thing to do. It was an easy enough job. Take the wife of one of his business partners out for lunch, get her drunk, escort her back to her house, and let her do whatever she wanted to me.
Dad had concerns about Anton’s loyalty. He was worried Anton might not vote the right way at the next board meeting, which meant some leverage would come in useful.
Anton’s wife, Monica, had a crush on me, so it wouldn’t take much to push her in the right direction.
Women like that were typically starved of affection. Men like Anton treated their wives as little more than possessions. The women had no power. No agency. No money of their own.
Was it so surprising that with a few kind words and some flattery, they were putty in my hands?
Water dripped off my nose as the bathroom filled with steam. Milo tapped on the door, but I ignored him. There were three other bathrooms in this apartment he could use if he was desperate.
I tugged on my hair, relishing the bite of pain as a few strands broke free. All I wanted to do right now was scream into the void. Instead, I swallowed my pain. It tasted vile, like the worst kind of toxic waste.
Dad had given me until tomorrow. If I wasn’t back in Scotland by the second of January, as far as he was concerned, I was no longer his son and heir. Whether Mom agreed with that decision, I had no clue.
Not that it mattered. I wasn’t going back. Even if Thea didn’t want me, I couldn’t carry on fucking random women. For one thing, I wasn’t even sure if I could get it up anymore, and for another, my heart wasn’t in it.
She was the only woman I wanted, and if I couldn’t have her, I would rather not have anyone.
Someone hammered on the bathroom door, but from the noise, it was not Milo this time.
“Get your ass out of there, Landon,” Kyril yelled. “We need to talk before Thea gets back.”
I grumbled, turned the shower off, and grabbed a towel. Since all my clothes were still in a crumbled mess, I had nothing decent - or clean - to wear. It sucked to be me. Dammit. I missed having access to a personal shopper. Lizzie was kind of annoying in that she had a huge crush on me, but the woman knew her shit when it came to picking clothes that made me look hotter than the average bear.
Fuck knows what I was going to wear for Declan’s soiree this evening. Jeans and a tee? If there was a dress code, I was fucked.
“Put your dick away,” Kyril spat when I wandered into the living room with my game face back on.
“I would, but I have no clean boxers. Or pants.” But because I was a decent guy and didn’t want my friends to feel envious, I finished scrubbing my hair dry and wrapped the damp towel around my waist. “Better?”
Kyril rolled his eyes and turned to Cass. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow? My father has demanded I return to London from whatever brothel I’m frequenting - his words.” He scratched the stubble peppering his jaw while huffing with annoyance. “Not sure why he thinks I’d spend my Christmas break in a whorehouse. Pretty sure he’s projecting.”
“You should probably go, or he’ll start to connect the dots.”
“Dots?” Milo looked confused.
I could feel a headache forming behind my eyes. A super bad migraine. I’d read somewhere that sex was an excellent cure for a migraine. Maybe I’d ask Thea to help heal my pain when she returned.
“Yeah,” Cassian explained patiently. “He’ll figure out Kyril is with me, and by extension, you and Milo. The Four Musketeers.”
“Mouseketeers,” I corrected.
Kyril sniffed. “Speak for yourself. I’m no mouse.”
Dario scoffed and rolled his eyes, which I ignored. After his outburst earlier, I was happy to pretend he didn’t exist. The guy was a douche.
Cassian looked up at the ceiling and muttered something under his breath. “Can we please stay on track? Thea will be back at any moment, and we need a plan.”
“Going overseas would be the best idea. Not Europe, though,” Milo stated calmly as if he’d given it a lot of thought. Knowing him, he had prepared a fucking PowerPoint presentation on the topic.
“Yes, I agree.” Cassian hummed while scrolling through his phone. “Which is why I’ve been looking for a house to buy in the US.”
“Um, house? Wow! You’re taking this whole adulting thing way too seriously. Property investment is for old dudes.” His family had like a million properties in their portfolio. “Wouldn’t renting something be better?”
“No. We need top-notch security to keep Thea safe. That’s not possible if I rent somewhere.”
Dario scoffed again, letting us all know what he thought of Cassian’s plan.
“You’re fucking deluded,” he said. “You have no idea what Francesco is capable of. He needs his daughter back to fulfill the deal with Marku, so the minute we leave Ireland, one of his hackers will find us. The only reason he hasn’t found us yet is because he doesn’t know Declan is helping us. But that will change if we fly commercial anywhere.”
“Who said we’re flying commercial?” Cass sat back, calm as anything. Not at all phased by Dario’s skepticism.
“Do you have a private jet on standby? No, I thought not.”
“Yes, I do, actually. Anyone else got issues they’d like to raise? No?” Silence filled the living room. Milo didn’t seem at all surprised by Cassian’s big revelation. Nor Kyril. Jesus . My pity party had gone on way too long if I’d missed all the important stuff.
“Um, how can you afford to hire a private jet without tipping off your father?” I asked, confused.
“I didn’t hire it. It’s mine.”
Now I was even more confused. “Dude, did you win the lottery and not tell us?”
“Not quite.” The asshole grinned. “But I found out from Mom that my grandmother left me a trust fund Dad knows nothing about. Turns out I’m a fucking billionaire.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved we had access to money or jealous he was now richer than me.
“Fantastic,” Dario grumbled. “Maybe you can hire some mercs to keep Thea safe from Francesco, ‘cause trust me, we’re going to need them.”
“She has me. I’m more than enough,” Kyril scoffed derisively. “I can keep my kitten safe.”
“Once your father finds out you’re banging her, she won’t be safe from him either,” Dario pointed out.
“He’s not going to find out!”
“Err… I think the cat’s out of the bag…”
“What?”
Milo passed Kyril his phone. “What’s going on?” I asked. Mine was dead. Thanks to my depressive episode triggered by Dario and his big fucking mouth, I’d forgotten to charge it.
“Oh shit.” I peered over Kyril’s shoulder to see a video of Kyril and me with Thea sandwiched between us. It looked like someone had recorded us on a camera phone at the college bonfire party. While the video wasn’t as incriminating as, say, the sex tape with Cassian, me, and Thea, it was very clear Kyril and Thea were more than friends.
Well, shit. Kyril swore loudly.
“Someone uploaded it to X an hour ago, and it’s already gone viral.”
I grabbed the phone and began scrolling through the comments. Unsurprisingly, most of the comments were unkind. People were calling Thea a whore, a greedy slut, and worse.
None of them used such terms about me or Kyril. Social media was the worst. I fucking hated it at times.
“Least your profile is high enough to build a good following on OnlyFans now,” Dario pointed out with a smirk in my direction. “You should cash in while you’re trending.”
“Fuck off and die.”