The Firefighter’s Fate (Crystal River Billionaire Brothers #5)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

CONNOR

I emerge from the fire with black soot on my face and anger brewing in my heart. The fire itself is not anything I care about, and the soot covering me is something I can easily get rid of.

But the anger never goes away.

I’m simply doing my job – the job I am trained to do well - but nothing can prepare me for what happens next.

Nothing prepares me for what is waiting at the fire station...

I have had to deal with a lot of crap in my role as a firefighter, and every job I’m called out for is another job I hate. It’s an occupation where you don’t actually want to do the occupation. Some days you wish you were just back at the station – bored at your wit’s end – because at least that means no one out there is getting hurt.

That’s why I hate going out on jobs – seeing ordinary people in pain.

And seeing people die.

This is not one of the good days. I’ve seen people hurt today. And we’ve tried our best to help them despite the suffering it inflicts and the soot it covers and the effort it requires. Buildings may collapse and prized possessions may burn in the flames, but you can’t bring back a human life, no matter how good of a firefighter you are.

I try to securely fast them to the back of my mind... those images of people hurt. I have to, otherwise I wouldn’t get the job done. As a firefighter, I have been a witness to the best of humanity, and also the worst.

And some days it’s hard to remind yourself of the good. But when you see that child smile, or that adult thank you from the bottom of their heart, or that mother cry in pure joy as you hand over their baby you’ve just saved... those are the moments that make all the bad days worth it.

And now I’m being driven back from the job, and the anger is still there, and the black soot is still stuck to my face, and my hair seems like it’s been burnt off, but I am calm. I’m calm because I know we’ve done all that we can - that’s all we can do as firefighters.

I step through the front doors of Crystal River’s sole fire station, and I see a sight that shouldn’t be seen. It’s a sight worse than a home on fire.

Yeah, I’m not prepared to see him .

My father.

The bastard.

The very same man who caused all the anger forever brewing in my heart.

He’s standing in my fire station. Waiting for me.

“What do you want, Waylen?” I ask him sharply and bluntly as I come to a stop in front of him – the anger clear in my deep, violent tone. Only a few yards separate us, but there is also a chasm between father and son full of years of suffering.

Dust and ash fall from my uniform. I’m probably barely unrecognizable under the soot and the slight burns. I can tell my hair is a mess.

And yet my father instantly knows it’s me.

He looks so out of place in this building with his fancy, tailored European suit and perfect hair. He is a man with enough wealth to buy this building and all of its contents and not even bat an eyelid at the expense. I’ve come from that money.

But the man doesn’t belong here... this fire station is a place of work – honest, manual work with your hands – and my father hasn’t done a day’s manual work in his entire life.

“You might as well call me by my first name,” my father replies. “I will let that slide. I need to talk to you, Connor.”

I stand up tall and stay put on the other side of the room to Father. We’re in the main reception area of the fire station. My firefighting colleagues – all drenched in the same soot and ash as I am – have smartly slipped away to give us privacy. They don’t have any desire in the slightest to be a part of this confrontation.

My heart is beating fast as I look at the preened face of the man who raised me.

“I know why you’re here,” I say with unsubtle menace dripping in my voice. “I know what you’re going to say to me...”

“Then there’s no point in me being here, then.”

Father turns to leave, but I cut him off.

“Spit it out, then,” I growl. “I know you won’t walk out of here until you get the satisfaction of unloading what’s on your mind. You came all the way down here from your mansion to grace us with your presence, so you might as well say what you need to say, Waylen .”

I put particular emphasis on his first name. I have never called him that before, so it is jarring coming from between my lips. Growing up, none of my brothers or I would ever even think of calling him by his first name. I want him to know how far we’ve come since then.

My father calmly turns back to me and stares at me for a long time with his penetrating eyes.

“You’re wasting your life, Connor.”

A guttural sigh emerges from the back of my throat.

“That’s exactly what I thought you would say,” I reply quietly. “I’m not disappointed.”

“You’re wasting your God-given potential by being nothing more than a firefighter.”

I take in my father’s words.

I can feel them adding to the flames of my heart’s anger.

And I keep it sealed.

I’m not going to lose control here. There’s no point. I’m not going to give Waylen Penmayne the relish of watching me erupt.

Instead of cursing or throwing back insults, I simply point to the front doors of the fire station.

“I’m not going to raise my voice,” I say, composed. “I’m not that kind of man. But I also want you to know, Waylen, that I never want to see you again. Once you step out of those doors, you are to never contact me again.”

My father nods. He understands. His face is blank - emotionless in the way that only a billionaire risen above the petty squabbles and worries of the world can be.

He follows my gesture and slowly walks out of the fire station with the graceful stride of a powerful man.

I’m not going to lose control...

I refuse to.

As I watch my father leave, the anger in my heart burns even more brightly than it ever has done.

No fire on any bad day can come close to that pain.

And I know for a certain fact no one in the world will ever cure me of it.