2. Reese
CHAPTER 2
Reese
“We’ve got a potential game-changer with a ranch for sale in Fresno County.”
“A ranch, huh?” I swirled my whiskey. Sunlight poured in, making the distillery grounds look golden and warm—a stark contrast to the business meeting in front of me.
Nathan dropped a file onto the table. “It’s got the water rights we need. Plus, we could grow our own spices and botanicals quicker. Cuts down on supplier costs, gives us more control over the flavors.”
“Water rights. That’s something.” I glanced at the file.
This business, this legacy, belonged to me now.
When Conrad first invited me into the business, I was suspicious. He never did anything without an angle, never offered something without expecting a bigger return. But against my better judgment, I said yes. And for a while, I actually liked it. Working at the distillery gave me purpose, something real. Something that wasn’t just fighting to prove myself. Now it was the only thing I had control over in my life.
Six years. Six goddamn years since she’d walked away, and I still felt the loss like a punch to the gut.
Despite everyone in town hating me, Ashbourne Distilleries, the west coast’s largest liquor manufacturer, was mine. I had a few other ventures to my name—clubs in Las Vegas, Miami, and LA, each a testament to the Ashbourne flair for luxury and entertainment.
Bottles of rare whiskey shone on the glass shelf in front of me, representing our family’s success. What I rebuilt in the rubble. Older members on the board had said I was reckless, too aggressive with expansion. But numbers didn’t lie—production was up, profits were climbing, and every gamble I took paid off.
Still, my father and his cronies wanted to claw back control, drag things to how they used to be. Even with all my awards, I still couldn’t outrun her.
“We’re looking at a return immediately if we buy it.”
My mind drifted. Fists flying, his grunts—he fought like hell, but so did I. Blood mixed with salt water in my mouth, the weight of Conrad’s body as I dragged him onto the shore.
“Reese?” Nathan’s voice yanked me back. “What’s your take?”
I took a sip from the glass, feeling the burn. I’d just sunk a small fortune into importing a rare South American herb. I thought it would make or break our next release.
I needed more. More money. More success. More… everything.
“This ranch? They’ll sell. Desperation breeds compliance.”
Desperation had turned me into this—a man consumed by anger, hellbent on revenge, willing to destroy anything in my path to get back what was taken from me.
“Another win. That’s what we need,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Get me the ranch.”
My mind was already whirling with what we could do with that property. After Conrad’s death and our parents’ retreat into their bubble of grief, my older sister, Jennie, and I took the reins, dragging the Ashbourne legacy kicking and screaming back to the top.
Jennie and I built beyond the bottle. Resorts and hotels, high- end fashion boutiques, a chain of gourmet restaurants. An empire so powerful it’d make the Kings tremble.
“We market the hell out of our sustainability angle on this new liquor line. Capitalize. More money for us.”
The room buzzed with voices, but all I could hear was the thudding of my own thoughts, each one centered on getting back at the Kings, this town, my own damn family.
I fucking saved him. Pulled his lifeless body onto the shore, while everyone looked at me like I was a murderer.
“This isn’t the way we do things. It’s not tradition,” Bernard, one of Dad’s supporters, said, but I didn’t care. My fingers fumbled in my suit jacket, searching for the case. I’d quit smoking years ago—for her—but that Reese was gone the moment Laurene deserted me.
If I had died that night instead of Conrad, would she have shed a single fucking tear? Would anyone have cared?
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I said. “I’m not running this company into the ground just so we can cling to the same product line that stopped working before Y2K.”
I lit the cigarette, inhaling deeply, feeling the burn in my lungs like a small reprieve from the fury building inside me. First, I’d wipe out the Kings. Would Laurene regret it then?
I should’ve let her drown in her own lies. Instead, I took the fall, even when it’d been ruled an accident, the town didn’t care while she walked away clean. But every now and then, the memory of her laugh crept in—the way we were before everything fell apart. I hope the guilt eats her alive. I hope it fucking rots her.
Bernard adjusted his tie. The man had been in this company longer than I’d been alive, and he wore his resistance like a badge of honor. “Reese, these old strategies sustained us for decades. Your father?—”
“My father,” I cut in, “also believed in fax machines and filing cabinets. Times change. So do strategies. ”
Bernard cleared his throat. “We need to show some loyalty, some integrity .”
That meant nothing. Not after all I’d lost.
“Loyalty and integrity?” I scoffed. “Money’s what makes the world spin.”
Laurene taught me that when she vanished. And Dad? He never gave a damn about integrity. Despite not being his first or second choice, I’m the one who picked up the pieces and turned this company around. But he’ll never fucking admit it.
“Conrad had solid plans for this company?—”
“But he’s not here, is he?”
Bernard blinked and paled. “Conrad’s strategies stand the test of time.”
“I’m not sticking to a six-year-old plan.” My ideas he had stolen. “Conrad’s six feet in the fucking ground.”
Laurene had thrown me under the fucking bus. I should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve known Laurene King would save her own ass before she ever thought about mine.
“Your time here is up, Bernard.”
“Wait, what?” Bernard recoiled so hard he damn near snapped his neck.
“You’re no longer working for Ashbourne Distilleries.” I leaned back, watching the color drain from his face. “No room for people stuck in the past with a dead man. Pack your shit.”
“I’ve been here for thirty years!”
“And that’s exactly the problem.” I exhaled smoke. “I’m running this company my way. Change is non-negotiable. Get out.”
The room was deathly quiet, all eyes on Bernard.
“Get the fuck out!” I slammed my hand against the table. Calm down. Don’t fly off the handle, you’re trying to change their opinions of you.
Bernard’s hands trembled as he struggled with his things. He stormed out, the door slamming.
“Everyone in this room needs to believe in me and in the vision. If you’re here clinging to the past, don’t bother staying. But if you’re ready to work, we’ve got plenty to do. Now get me that ranch.” I stared down the table.
They all rose. But then the office door swung open, and my father stood in the doorway.
“Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up. No one had to drag your sorry ass out of a bar?” I clenched my jaw as the staff filed out, leaving us to one of our typical yelling matches. “What do you want? I need to get to the airport for Germany,” I said, putting out my cigarette.
“You’re staying.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Who’s stopping me?”
“Don’t test me, boy,” Dad said, cool as ever, heading straight for the bar cart in the room.
“Where’s Jennie to drop off this little message, like always?” I shot back. “Trying to play father of the year again?”
I communicated with my dad as little as possible. Fuck him. I ensured the success of this company for the past six years without his approval.
“I didn’t spend decades building this company just to watch you burn it down because you’re too proud to listen to advice of people like Bernard.”
“Advice?” I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You mean sabotage. Don’t think I don’t see through your henchmen trying to pull strings.”
“If I were pulling strings, you wouldn’t be sitting in that chair.”
“I took over because you bailed,” I snapped. “Don’t pretend you gave me control because you had some big plan. I’m cleaning up thirty-year-old messes.”
Dad’s fingers tightened around the liquor bottle.
“Think you can do better?” I continued. “Then do it. Take the title back. Hell, I’ll clear out my desk today.”
“You think I wanted to step down, boy?” His voice was dangerous. “Someone had to fall on the sword after what you did , and I took the hit so this family could keep its name and Yvonne King didn’t swoop in on us!”
I barked a laugh, bitter and sharp. “Oh, you’re a martyr now? Spare me the sob fucking story.”
Dad walked over, two glasses in hand, sliding one across the table.
“There’s a party tonight. You’ll be there.”
“Why?” I used to admire him—now I saw the monster beneath the mask. “I run the company, make us money. You stay out of my way. That’s the deal.”
“I’ve watched your absurd escapades for the last six years, Reese. Yes, you made us some money, but what about the other bullshit you’ve done?” He took a sip of his drink. “Aspen for the X Games, skydiving in Sydney, traipsing through the Amazon. For what?”
“Expanding our global presence,” I shot back.
Dad sneered. “Did you know we have a hostile fucking takeover at our door?”
That made me pause.
“What are you talking about? We have more money than we can wipe our asses with.”
“Your sister, chasing after deals she can’t close, and you—” He paused. “You’re no Conrad.”
Conrad. Always fucking Conrad.
Conrad, the homecoming king, prom king, captain of the football team. Not like me. He could shake hands with investors, charm their wives, and still make it to Sunday dinner without a hair out of place.
He made it look so easy. Too easy.
“We can’t afford another setback.” Dad’s tone was quieter but no less stern.
I reached for the cigarettes, giving in to the need.
“Those are bad for your health. ”
“You’re bad for my health,” I deadpanned, lighting the cigarette and taking another slow drag.
His scowl deepened. “Times are changing, Reese. The town’s changing. We’re being pushed out, and you don’t even see it.”
“Pushed out of what?” I leaned forward. “The country club newsletter? The charity circuit?”
“That’s the kind of thinking that’ll get us buried,” he snapped, his voice low and venomous. “Dante Castillo. Yvonne won’t tell me the truth, but that bastard… I saw him in LA talking to Jonathan Rhodes. And what happens months later? New developments, new money pouring in, renovations left and right. And we’re not part of that deal? You don’t find that suspicious?”
I shook my head. “Some celebrities, influencers, and a few techies move into town. It’s nothing to lose your mind over.”
“This town was built on legacy . And now it’s being whored out to the highest bidder. These new types are flashy, crass, and reckless. They’re parasites, feeding off what families like ours created. Soon Lush will be…” Dad’s gaze fixed on the glass in his hand. “It’ll be like Monte Carlo when the cruise ships dock. So, Yvonne and I agreed. The deal is reinstated.”
“What deal?”
He smiled. “You’re marrying Laurene King.”
I blinked slowly and shook my head. “No.”
“You are.” He took a measured sip of his drink, savoring it. “You should be grateful. You don’t see the way Yvonne’s scrambling, how desperate she is. She’s hiding something—something big. We’re gonna find out what. The Kings have ruled over Lush for long enough. It’s our turn now.”
“Laurene left, remember? We don’t even know where she is.”
“She’s back.”
The room seemed to tilt.
The one woman I wasn’t supposed to have. But still, I remembered our secret moments: how she whispered my name, the sensation of her nails scratching down my spine, and the sight of her eyes rolling in ecstasy as I brought her to the edge.
“She was your brother’s fiancée, but arranged marriages are simple. No emotions involved.”
No emotions? I almost laughed. Her engagement to my brother had just been another chapter in the blood feud that defined this town. The Kings and Ashbournes didn’t collaborate; we warred.
“After what she accused me of? You want me to marry her?”
He let the silence stretch just long enough for my pulse to throb in my ears.
Heat crawled up my spine. “You think I wanted that fight? That I wanted my brother”—my throat burned—“dead?”
“I think,” Harold said, slow, deliberate, “you let your jealousy do the thinking for you. And that cost my son his life.” He set his glass down with a sharp clink. “And what did it cost you, Reese? Nothing.”
I forget the specifics, but the town was practically built on our family’s feud—starting with Augustus King and Reginald Ashbourne, two ambitious men who turned from allies to enemies overnight. A broken deal and a bruised ego were all it took to light a fire that burned for generations of espionage, sabotage, and lies. Then Reginald killed Augustus during a brawl in a warehouse fire.
Accident or not, it didn’t matter. There’s been no love lost between our families since.
“This is my life!” I surged to my feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I can’t marry her. How am I supposed to stand at the end of an aisle pretending like she didn’t kill my brother?”
Dad shot up from his seat. “ You killed your brother!”
Everything was always Conrad, Conrad, Conrad.
No one spotted the cracks. No one talked about the way Conrad always expected the world to bend to him, or how he’d tear anyone down who didn’t worship him the same way everyone else did. He used his charm and smile to get his way, and anyone who didn’t cooperate was simply removed.
“It’s your duty,” my father said. Cold. Final.
“I will never marry Laurene,” I spat. “I’d rather die.”
“You’ll be there.” He straightened his suit jacket. “You have no choice. Yvonne and I discussed it. Teaming up is the best way to ensure tradition survives.”
I crushed the lit cigarette in my hand, the ember burning my skin. The thought of facing Laurene again—hearing her voice, breathing in her jasmine scent, feeling her soft touch—made my heart race. Had she changed her scent over the years?
“Be there tonight,” Dad said, looking at his watch. “You’ll be there, and you’ll conduct yourself accordingly.”
I got closer and glared at him.
“If you turn this marriage down. I won’t just cut you off from the family business. I’ll ruin you. Your name will mean shit , you hear me? I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted across this entire industry,” Dad snarled.
My stomach twisted. My new liquor line was too close to being released to get nixed now. “You already did that, old man, when I was born into this fucked-up family.”
That smile wasn’t fatherly; it was predatory.
“Oh, I haven’t even started yet. If you walk away from this marriage, I’ll make sure you lose everything. Every connection, every deal, every partner you’ve ever worked with will turn their backs on you. Your new liquor lines? Gone. I’ll make sure they’re thrown off every distributor’s shelf, pulled from every bar, and you’ll be left begging for scraps.”
He paused, letting the words hang in the air, savoring my discomfort.
“And I’ll leverage every ounce of support I have in the company to make sure you’re fired. You’ll be a pariah in this industry, Reese. ”
He threw a gold-embossed envelope onto the table and headed for the door.
“Wear a damn tux.”
I stared at the envelope, grabbed it, and ripped it open. Inside was an invitation to my own wedding.
Fuck.