Loans

They did not vote. 

There was no need to because no one wanted to gamble 56.9% of their money every hour. That was too much sport for the heart.

Blaine stayed back in the boardroom as everyone exchanged pleasantries, and the men slowly got up and began to exit. 

He stayed back to go over the slide again, but when he looked up at the now quiet hall, Sullivan was still seated and looking at him darkly from the other end of the room, while Ariel was packing up her things as she gave instructions to her P.A.

“How much should I pay you to back off my wife?” Sullivan said calmly.

“What?” Ariel turned to her husband in surprise, her face burning red even as her P.A. jaw fell.

“Not you, honey.” Sullivan smiled briefly at her, and turned back to Blaine. “I hate seeing you around. I hate that I have to see you every day and that you will not even take your eyes off my wife.” He shook his head, and made a fluttering motion with his fingers from his head down. “It bathes me in fire.”

Blain chuckled and closed his tablet, handing it to Ethan beside him. “You deserve to burn in hell, Sullivan. I guess you are finally getting closer.” 

“No. I mean it. Call a price. I would write you a check today for all the thirty-five percent the Tucker shares are worth.”

Blaine laughed heartily at this. “Three generations later, and the Sullivans never did get intelligent. Tsk tsk tsk. Same thing your talentless grandfather tried and failed.”

“You have no manners,” Sullivan laughed. “You will speak about your benefactor like that? You should be farming rice in some counrtyside if he never decided to invest in your grandfather.”

Blaine laughed, “What is a thief's investment worth?” 

The whole room was silent and tense, a sharp contrast to how both men looked.

If a stranger had walked in at that moment he would have mistaken both men for friends who were just bantering. 

“You know, I am not surprised. It’s in the blood. If your forefathers did not spend their time robbing and running with their loots in the sewers and tunnels like rodents, you would have been right beside me on that farmland.” Blaine finished with a dramatic sigh. 

Sullivan stood up and smacked the desk. 

Blaine laughed harder at this, thoroughly amused now that this was still an insecurity for the Sullivans. 

Despite their long line of riches and sophistication, they would never really be able to clean their names among the old families of Japan. Their forebears were known robbers, the dirty escape-through-the-sewer kind.

“Stay out of the kitchen if you cannot handle the heat.” Blaine stood up slowly. 

The meeting had gone along faster than he thought it would have, thanks to Ariel’s intelligent presentation. Maybe he could get a couple of hours of sleep before the time for the TV show.

He glanced at her now, and it broke his heart to see she was standing still, obviously embarrassed that they would argue over her like this.

“You really know how to invite death.” Sullivan was standing before him now, blocking the view to Ariel. “Back off!” he yelled.

“Why? You don’t own her.” He said, for no other reason than he knew how much this would piss Sullivan off, and it did, because he swung at him. 

Blaine moved in time, and Sullivan’s hand crashed into the desk behind him, denting the glass. 

He whirled around, and Blaine was ready to let him have it, f*ck the TV show.

“Enough!” Ariel yelled, hurling a chair to the wall, and both of them froze midway into lunging at each other.

“Both of you are impossible,” she said angrily, walking up to them. “Old boys, go on fighting about your dead ancestors and grudges you know nothing about. Don’t stop. But this will be the last time you drag me into it.” She was looking at them with flaming eyes.

“I am not a bloody toy for boys to fight over, and I don’t belong to either of you.” She gave both of them disgusted looks. 

“Blaine, back off!” Her eyes were bright. 'This is the last time I will say it. Next time I swear I will hurt you.” She turned to Sullivan. “Tell me how much I am worth to you, so I can pay you, and we will go our separate ways, since I am just another of your fancy possessions.”

She looked between both of them, “Ridiculous!”, and then she was gone. 

Sullivan was staring after her with bloodshot eyes, and Blaine thought the man had better not even dream of hurting her.

He was not proud of it, neither did he plan to change it because Sullivan brought out the competitive teenager in him every damn day, but she was right.

The way both of them acted all the time was nothing short of ridiculous for men in their late thirties. 

But it could not be helped. 

That stupid court judge had forced their families together, and they had to release their frustrations somehow.

It did not help that Sullivan was such an aggravator. 

He was walking past him now. “Mind what you do, Sullivan.” Blaine said calmly. “Don’t forget she is still the mother of my child.”

“You bloody idiot.” Sullivan whirled around. “Stay away from my family.”

“They are not yours. My son and his mother are simply loans. They are not yours,” he said, staring the man in the eye. “And I will come for them one random day.” 

“You really do want to die,” Sullivan said. "We can start it all again. I still have not taken anyone as payment for my brother's life. Maybe I’ll just kill Mün. You’ll like that, right? You have always hated your brother.”

Blaine gritted his teeth, staring at him. 

“If you touch one strand on Mün’s head. I will not stop at one. I will do the world a favor and rid it of Sullivans.”