Chapter 2
Death by wealth asphyxiation. That’s what his autopsy would say if he keeled over right there.
Leo, recently named Buchanan, hooked two fingers into his shirt’s collar and tugged.
His cousin Anthony was into suits, but the bastard had gone off grid for a couple years now.
Where the hell Anthony was, Leo didn’t know.
So Leo’d spent an excruciating morning wading through a sea of suits all by himself.
That after he’d spent the last week being paraded like a golden goose from meetings to etiquette lessons like he was the latest member of the Royal Family.
Excuse me. Just need to squeeze past you. Sorry. A soft feminine voice tickled his ears, her gentle scent of lilies drawing Leo’s gaze. But the red-haired woman vanished in the throng of people.
Leo pivoted away from the voice before he made it abundantly clear how you could give wealth to a boy from Govan but not remove the Govan from the boy. It was those very principles and an upbringing shaped by his Italian mother that prevented him from picking up a woman at a funeral-fundraiser.
Besides, he had already gone deaf in the ear with air kisses. Probably all the damned spittle had clogged up his ear ducts. So how did he know if the woman actually had a sweet voice?
Oh, Mr Buchanan, another female interrupted before its owner grabbed his arm.
Leo looked down at the cluster of diamonds shining on her hand and wrist, then spotted the pointy red-glossy nails clutching at his dark tweed blazer. Er…
He looked up the glitzy arm, past the breasts that were practically leaping out of her black dress, over more diamonds winking at her neck, and finally to a highly made-up face.
Flashing her a smile, the one that hurt his cheeks, Leo pivoted just a tad bit away from her.
This one’s perfume stank like a golden toilet left uncleaned for a long time.
I must say, Mr Buchanan, you’re as handsome as the rumours say. Your late father was a close friend of mine. She pressed a hand to her chest, drawing his eyes for a split second to her breasts, then used a finger to dab under her very dry eyes. This is such a tragic loss.
Yes, another woman joined her, almost elbowing pointy-red-nails to the side. I’m Sally, Mr Buchanan. I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss. I keep thinking we’ll see Mr Buchanan walk in and say it was all a joke.
Pointy-red-nails laughed. You know he was that sort of man.
Leo cracked a smile again. Truth was, he had no clue what sort of man David Buchanan had been, apart from being a rich bastard whose fortune—well, at least a quarter of it—was now Leo’s.
Stepping away from his red-nailed handcuff, Leo bowed to the two women. Probably showing them he knew nothing about rich people etiquette. How did you get away from a cluster of people without being rude? He took a step back and banged into someone.
He turned, an apology sitting at the tip of his tongue. Then he saw him.
Johnny E. The apple of his late biological father’s eye and an entitled bastard. Johnny snarled, ready to hurl a few curses at Leo.
The scene was almost from an American teen drama, the sort between a newcomer and the school bully. All conversation quietened around them, and faces turned to see what would happen next.
Johnny E was built like a tree trunk with tattoos and scars on his skin like tree rings. Being raised in an Italian family with a cousin whose father was a mafioso, Leo could recognise a thug.
When the lawyers had introduced Leo to Johnny E, he had wondered why David Buchanan, philanthropist and a businessman, would need a thug in his ranks.
Leo raised his hand to apologise and defuse the situation when he felt a twitch at the back of his shoulder blades. The sort you felt when all eyes were trained on you.
He should let it go. He should apologise and not draw attention. But Johnny was a bully. If he backed down now, he’d give Johnny a leg up.
Leo pivoted his hand movement instead, holding it out for Johnny to shake. Hello, I’m Leo Buchanan.
Johnny tipped his chin up. The man was tall, towering over almost everyone in the room.
A man who’d fit right in with the athletes in the Highland Games.
But Leo had inherited his physique from his biological father.
Standing at six foot five with shoulders that never fit in his cousins’ hand-me-downs, Leo was no sapling.
In fact, Johnny had to look up just slightly—despite the lifts he wore in his boots—to look Leo in the eye.
Johnny grunted, then took Leo’s hand to shake. The man’s fingers were bejewelled in rings, all blinking under the bright party lights. But despite all his shine and slick-back appearance, Leo noticed the fresh bruises on the man’s knuckles.
So the Hammer of Buchanan hadn’t called it quits just because his boss was dead.
Leo gave Johnny’s hand an extra tight squeeze and watched as the grimace of pain crossed his eyes.
Leo smiled his cheek-hurting smile again before stepping away.
It was nice meeting you. All of you, Leo said the last part to every single eavesdropper. I hope you’re having a pleasant time.
Murmurs of agreement floated through the air, even as people got closer.
More air kisses followed as people gave their condolences and introduced themselves.
Women and a few men told him how handsome he looked; others shoved business cards at him, telling him about the sure-fire investment opportunities they had.
Many purported to be his friends, people he could come to if he had any questions, especially about his father.
Then he had a few people tell him how generous he had been to donate a bucketload of money for the David Buchanan Foundation.
It was fucking exhausting. For one, Leo had no clue who had set this memorial up. Or why the memorial had a fundraiser for the dead man’s foundation. He’d been asked to show up here to grieve a man he didn’t know.
Another hand grabbed his forearm whispering about how warm it was in here and whether they could step away. Leo pried the person off him and dusted off his jacket since the person had literally been covered in something shiny. He then bowed again and turned towards the exit.
Mr Buchanan, sir—
He pivoted away from the person.
Sir, it’s nice to—
Leo held up a finger and turned away.
Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.
Another dodge.
Hell, if he stayed any longer, he’d only be warding off more bullets.
Champagne?
The flute popped up right in front of his face. Held up there with a shiny masculine hand sporting bruises. Johnny E. So the bully wasn’t done. Leo raised a brow. I’m not a champagne person.
Johnny E’s voice was loud, the sort where you wondered if the person had a loudspeaker fixed in their throat. With that last name and more of these parties on your schedule, you ought to be. Although you could get away with whisky, I suppose.
Leo grimaced. Whisky. He hadn’t ever warmed up to it either. Sacrilegious for a Scot, he knew.
Johnny smirked. If the lawyers hadn’t confirmed your DNA, we’d be wondering if you were even related to David.
Oh, aye. The DNA test that had altered his life. The lawyers had swabbed his mouth and done an expedited test that had then resulted in meetings, mind-blowing loads of money popping into his life, and being showered with expensive stuff.
Yet Leo just couldn’t tap any of that. He was, after all, a goat in a lion’s cloak. A misfit in this herd of people. Something even the idiotic Johnny could make out.
Leo shrugged. There’s a lot to be said for DNA.
Johnny twisted his head around, as if working out a crick in his neck. There is a lot to be said for family too. He took a step closer to Leo, trying once again to be intimidating. Clearly the man hadn’t been raised by a sandal-wielding five-foot-nothing single mother. Leo did not back down.
Johnny looked Leo up and down, exuding an air of violence and arrogance. David raised me as his own. His family.
Ah, so there it was—jealousy. The real reason Johnny hadn’t taken the time to actually sit in on meetings or even welcome Leo or his half-brothers into the fold. Leo had felt Johnny’s stares though. His shoulder blades hadn’t stopped tingling for the last week.
Leo wasn’t quite sure whether the man himself had been watching or if he’d had his cronies doing the spying for him. But this was a hunting game for sure. And Johnny had zeroed in on Leo as his prey for some reason.
Leo shrugged. It’s a shame, then, that he didn’t trust you enough to leave the business and the Foundation under your care. Family, eh?
Johnny smirked, his eyes growing darker. You know you’ll never be one of us.
The hoot of laughter that jumped out of him startled Leo as much as it did the people surrounding him. For the first time that night, someone had said something even remotely funny. Oh, big man, I don’t ever want to.
Shaking his head and still laughing, Leo stepped away from Johnny. Then his eyes met those of three men standing to a side, each separated by a cluster of people from the other. But with their hereditary height, they stood out.
His half-brothers. Family.
Leo tipped his head to them. Men he shared a father with but couldn’t tell their likes or dislikes if forced to. Family.
Turning his back to them, Leo strode out.
What was the point of being rich if you couldn’t be rude?