Chapter 22 #2
The humor drains from his face immediately. “Do you remember that dickwad idiot from college? Anthony?”
I groan instantly. “Yeah. Who could forget him?”
Anthony Mercer.
Human garbage wrapped in a designer suit.
“Well,” Locke says dryly, “he stole my client.”
I stop walking. “What?”
“Pierre Montfaden pulled out this morning.”
“What do you mean, pulled out?” The deal with Pierre was as big for him as Lockwood is for me.
“I mean,” he says tightly, “the fucker emailed me at six in the fucking morning saying he’s decided to move in another direction.” His expression hardens further. “And apparently, that direction is Anthony Mercer.”
“What the hell?” I stare at him. “Something must have happened. Anthony can’t do anything for him.”
The Mercers don’t even come close to touching Vale Global.
“I don’t know.” Locke runs a hand through his hair roughly. “Everything was fine yesterday. Contracts were nearly finalized. Then suddenly, they’re signing with him.”
“That’s suspicious as hell.”
“Exactly.”
We reach the bottom of the stairs to the jet.
Locke looks genuinely furious now. “I don’t know what game he’s playing,” he says coldly, “but I’m getting to the bottom of it. Anthony used to steal my work all the time in college. Ideas. Contacts. Opportunities.” His mouth twists. “Not anymore.”
I stare at him for a second.
This is not going to end well.
Locke adjusts his jacket and starts up the stairs toward the plane.
And judging by the look on his face…
Anthony Mercer should probably start praying.
We board the jet, and my father looks up from the leather seat near the bar.
“Perfect,” he smiles, glancing between Locke and me. “My boys are finally here.”
“I’m gonna grab a drink,” Locke says, going behind the bar.
Dad frowns. “At this time of morning, Locke?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere in the world.” Locke grabs a bottle of beer and disappears beyond the curtains.
Dad’s eyes shift toward me. “What’s happened now?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with him later.”
“Alright. Can I have a quick word with you?”
“Sure.” I hope like hell I’m not in his bad books today. I’ve been so focused on Piper I don’t know what’s going on in the world outside.
We grab a seat, and I only relax when he smiles.
“What the hell is going on with you and Arthur Lockwood? He called me last night.” Dad leans one shoulder against the seat. “Raving about you.”
That catches me off guard.
“Raving?” I repeat carefully.
“Yes. The man has done a complete turnaround.” Dad watches me closely now. “Last month, he barely trusted anyone under the age of fifty. Now suddenly, he’s talking about you like you hung the moon.” His brows lift slightly. “Whatever you’re doing is apparently working miracles.”
I shrug lightly, trying to play it off. “I’m glad. All I did was do my job.”
“Mm.” That sound alone tells me he doesn’t believe me for a second, then Dad narrows his eyes slightly. “It has something to do with that girl, doesn’t it? Piper Andrews.”
I huff out a laugh. “Dad, come on.”
“Levi.” Of course, Jeremiah Vale misses absolutely nothing.
“Well,” I admit carefully, “it could.”
His mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “In what way?”
“It’s a long story, but a good one. And look, I’m winning Arthur over. He’ll be signing with us in just a handful of weeks.”
“Indeed.” He sighs. “As long as you’re not getting yourself into trouble.”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
“I sure hope so.” He points a warning finger at me. “You boys are determined to make my blood pressure explode.”
“That’s a little dramatic, Dad.”
“Trust me, it’s not.”
He’s not entirely wrong. We each come with our own… fine print. Knox and Dorian have only now settled because they’re married with children, but then there’s the rest of us.
“There’s another reason I wanted to speak to you.”
“What’s up?”
“With the situation in England,” he says, his brows knitting, “we need to step things up faster than planned.”
I think of the London branch, the restructuring, and the fucking fallout with my uncle. I’m not surprised we need to step things up. “What do you need me to do?”
Dad folds his arms. “You’ve done excellent work this quarter with Arthur, the hedge fund expansion, and the new contracts.” His gaze sharpens with pride.
A weight settles heavily in my chest. Praise from my father isn’t something that’s easily handed out.
“You’re one of my best,” he adds. “So, I want you to go to England for six months and stabilize the hedge fund division there.”
Everything inside me goes still. “Six… months?”
“I know it’s sudden,” he says evenly. “But I need my strongest people there right now.”
I get it but… Six months.
My mind immediately goes to Piper.
Six months.
Things have only just started to feel real between us.
If I leave for six months, I won’t be here to chase her anymore.
Dad keeps talking about England, strategy, expansion, and restructuring, but his voice starts fading into background noise beneath the sudden pressure building in my chest.
Because the idea of leaving feels wrong.
But I have to be realistic.
Piper and I only just crossed a threshold we’ve been dancing around for weeks, and no matter what happened last night, she still has her reservations. I have to respect that, and I guess I have a job to do.
“When? When do you need me to go?” I ask, cautiously.
“As soon as you wrap up things with Lockwood.”
A month. Maybe six weeks, after I sort out the contract and my other clients.
I nod once. “Alright, sure. I’ll go.”
My old man’s face lights up with pride, but my damn heart sinks.
Six months ago, I would’ve grabbed the offer without hesitation.
But for the first time in my life, success feels like losing something.
Now it feels like I’m being asked to walk away from the one thing I actually want.
Funny how success suddenly stops meaning much when there’s someone waiting for you at home.