Sinner Chapter 3 #3
“To carry it off, I need an entirely new wardrobe. And if I’m going to client meetings, dinners, and such, I need to arrive in style.
I don’t want to embarrass the company. I looked at this gorgeous Porsche 911 Turbo S coupe the other day.
Man, it’s beautiful, powerful, and sleek.
And for what you get, a hundred and fifty thousand is a steal.
It’s white with a black leather interior.
You’ve got to come with me to get it,” Rowan said exuberantly.
I let him run out of steam before I replied.
“Rowan, exactly how do you propose to pay for the clothes and car?”
My brother gave me a confused look. “What do you mean? My pay raise, plus a little chipped in from you as a bonus, will cover it. I know you can afford that.”
“You’re right, I can afford them, but I’m not moving you into a different, higher position, increasing your pay, or giving you a bonus. And I’m not naming you as my successor. If I die without a wife and kids, then the company will be sold and the proceeds given to various charities.”
The shock on his face made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. God, he was so oblivious and entitled. He was a man-child. I knew I hadn’t started the creation of him, but I’d continued it. Rowan sat forward in his chair. His hands were placed flat on the desktop.
“What the hell are you talking about? Leaving it to charity! I’m your brother.
This company and your assets are mine. Why give them away?
I get it. If you do marry and have kids, they’re entitled to a portion, but you’ll need me to run things until your children are old enough to join the family company.
But even then, it makes sense for me to run everything. ”
“Like hell it does! I built this with my own sweat, blood, and tears. You haven’t done a thing to grow it.
And I won’t leave a portion of it to you.
If you want a legacy to control or pass on, then put your head and ass into making something of your own.
Get your hands dirty and work yourself up.
You’ve skated along your entire life, Ro.
Mom and Dad started it, and I was stupid to continue. But those days are done.
“I wanted to wait to talk about this, but since you brought it up, we’ll do it now. If nothing major happens before I finish acquiring Little’s Crisis Management LLC, you’ll need to find a new job when it's done. I can’t keep you on anymore, Rowan.”
The silence was deafening. I watched his face. His expressions went from smug to disbelief, to horror, then finally to anger. He hopped to his feet and leaned over my desk.
“What the fuck!?” he shouted.
“Keep your voice down,” I ordered.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Tell me this is a joke. You can’t do this to me, Reign.”
“It’s not a joke. I’m not playing. And I can do this.
I should’ve done it long ago and never given you a job here.
Your sense of superiority and entitlement is bullshit, and it rubs the hardworking people here the wrong way.
They fight for what they have, and so have I.
It’s not fair that you don’t have to. The days of you being considered better because of shared blood are over.
If I were you, I’d start seeking another job and save your money.
What you wear and drive are more than adequate as is. ”
I thought for sure Rowan would argue with me. I steeled myself for it. However, he didn’t. Instead, he stared at me for several moments, then turned his back and stormed out. The tension in my body eased a smidge.
I knew that our conversation wasn’t over.
I’d let what was said settle before approaching the topic again.
Maybe I would’ve been more likely to have eased into it more if I hadn’t been hurting.
Or maybe not. Stretching back in my chair, I sipped my cooling coffee, thoughts of Rowan I set aside.
Instead, I let my mind wander back to Dr. Shah.
After our initial meeting on Monday, I’d done some online sleuthing.
I discovered her first name was Anastasia. Christ, I thought that name was sexy as fuck. I found out where she went to school and a few other professional things. Her patients sang her praises in reviews. I thanked Jesse the following day for the recommendation.
At night, alone at home, I caught myself thinking about her, but in a more sexual way.
I wondered what her body looked like underneath her clothes.
Was she the same golden color all over? What color and size were her nipples?
Was she sensitive to touch? What gave her the most pleasure in bed? And a whole lot more.
She wasn’t the first woman I’d ever dreamed about sexually, but never to the extent I did with her. I had to keep reminding myself to get myself under control. I was due for my second treatment tomorrow. I chose the last slot of the day.
The buzzing of my desk phone yanked my ass out of the daydreaming. I noted on the phone’s identification window that my head of contracts was calling. Enough daydreaming. Work called.