3

“My family classifies me as the black sheep, but they refuse to admit how corrupt everyone and everything is. It’s my job to show them.”

My father gave a nod before he delved into the nitty-gritty of their business relationship, all the specifics of production and shipping. Dinner was served, starting with a salad, moving on to a soup, and then the main course, which was a steak with greens and potatoes. They got into the thick of it, going back and forth as they constructed the terms and conditions of this operation.

My eyes were down most of the time, but I listened to every word. Whenever I lifted my gaze to look at the man across the table, I felt the heat flush through me again. Whenever that happened, his gaze shifted to me…like he knew.

My eyes darted away as quickly as possible, trying to hide my stare.

The wine was exchanged for scotch, and then the cigars emerged. I excused myself from both vices and stuck to my wine and the cheese board that was brought out for dessert, which both men ignored.

One of my father’s men entered the room then spoke quietly into his ear.

My father set the cigar in his dish before he rose to his feet. “Excuse me.” Before he left the table, he pushed in the chair, and he rounded the corner with the man who had retrieved him.

Now it was just the two of us…and I’d never been so uncomfortable. I wasn’t shy or timid in any regard and I could hold my own in any conversation, but the second this man walked into the room, I turned into mush.

He sat back in his chair and stared at me.

I drank my wine as I stared back.

He released the smoke from his mouth before he set the lit cigar aside. “Is this serious, or are you just his favorite whore?”

I almost choked on my wine when I heard what he said. “Excuse me?”

A grin moved on to his lips. “You heard me.”

“I’m not a whore.”

“You’re telling me you enjoy fucking a man twice your age?” He cocked his head slightly. “When a younger, cockier, and more handsome man could make you come? I’d even pay you—if you want.”

The ick of what he said made me cringe. “First of all…fuck you. And secondly, I’m his daughter.”

The grin he wore immediately disappeared from his face.

“And still not a whore.”

His fingers brushed over his jawline as the smirk slowly returned. “My mistake…”

I reached for my wine again and took a sip, letting the silence wash away the tension.

He spoke again. “My offer is still on the table.”

“My father could walk back in the room any second⁠—”

“You think I care?” he said. “I’m sure he’s aware how much men want to fuck you.”

“All I have to do is tell my father everything that’s been said, and your little deal will be off.”

He shrugged. “Then tell him.”

“If I do, he’ll probably kill you.”

He grinned. “He’s welcome to try.”

“Wow, you’re arrogant. And reckless.”

“I try.” He winked before he grabbed the scotch and took a drink. “Have dinner with me.”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure.” It was a lesson my father had taught me. Separation of church and state. Sleeping with someone you worked with was always a bad idea. It would bite you in the ass at some point.

“I’m doing business with your father, not you.”

“And who do you think you’ll be doing business with once he’s gone?”

He regarded me with a hard stare, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. “You’re his successor. That’s sexy.”

I covered the flush in my cheeks with another drink.

“Come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I don’t need money.”

“I’ll make it worth your while in other ways…” His blue eyes were so confident, so cocky, and so beautiful.

“I have a boyfriend.”

His hard stare didn’t flinch. “You want another one?”

“I don’t cheat.”

“Then do you want a better one?”

“You aren’t boyfriend material.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, I just do.”

He relaxed farther into the chair, that arrogant smirk permanently plastered on his face. “You’re right. Boyfriend is such a pussy word. Girlfriend is too.”

I drank my wine and did my best to ignore him.

“If you ever change your mind, I’m at your service.”

My father returned to the room, unbuttoning the front of his jacket before he returned to his seat.

My eyes were on Axel.

His eyes were on me, waiting for me to tattle on him to my father.

I should tell my father the truth, that this fuck boy had no respect for boundaries, but I didn’t. I didn’t say anything at all.

“I’m sorry for the interruption,” my father said. “Business never sleeps.”

“I know how that is.” Axel picked up the cigar and returned it to his mouth. “Your daughter and I had a nice conversation in your absence.”

My eyes widened at his audacity.

“What did you discuss?” my father asked as he poured another glass of scotch.

Axel stared at me, letting the smoke slowly seep from his mouth, that arrogant grin lingering on his lips.

My heart raced as I was put on the spot, the man across from me calling my bluff. “I told him the family business will be mine someday, and I intend to do as good of a job as you have.”

The smirk moved into his eyes, so pompous.

My father put his arm across the back of my chair. “You will, sweetheart.”