Page 9 of Avenging Azalea

“I’ll be by around ten,” I said as I flipped through the file on my desk. “Yes, the vacuum seal on the packages was good. No, I won’t be eating tonight. I have another meeting.” I smiled at the berating from Mrs. Chen, who loved it when I stayed to eat. “Okay, see you then.” Hitting end, I set the phone down on the desk.

I hated lying to Mrs. Chen, but I really wanted to go home, relax, and hear about Fawn’s day.

The Chens were my last stop tonight, and they had been working with us longer than any other business. I had memories of going to their restaurant with my father when I was as young as ten, and now there was an ease to our relationship. They felt like family, and I regularly stopped in to eat even when I didn’t have anything to pick up.

There hadn’t been a single complaint since I’d been delegated to laundered money retrieval. That wasn’t exactly true. My father didn’t like how friendly I was with the owners or the bonuses I gave out. He preferred that the Mikhailov name be feared while I wanted to create loyalty, and you didn’t do that by beating them into submission.

They knew what we were capable of, and some had seen it firsthand, but there was a time and a place with any discipline. Why turn them into snarling dogs in a cage when you could have relationships that were long-lasting and built on mutual respect and trust?

So far, I’d won the argument with my father and Ronan, who were more aligned in their thinking. I wasn’t a fool, though. It had nothing to do with them respecting my choice and everything to do with the money pouring into our coffers. It was hard to argue with success.

The girls’ collars jingled as they raised their heads a moment before a hard knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” I called out.

I knew it was Ronan before he opened the door. He always knocked the same way, like the door had offended him, and he was trying to beat it into an apology.

“Brother,” I said in greeting.

Shadow and Sheba had gotten up off their beds and now stood in the middle of the room, staring at Ronan. Their ears stood in points as they held perfectly still. They were Black Shepherds and, with their golden eyes, looked more like wolves out of a fantasy novel than dogs.

“Are you going to tell them to lay down or something,” Ronan asked, not stepping inside any further.

It was tempting to tell them to eat him instead. I snapped my fingers and pointed to their beds. They obeyed without question, something that Ronan never did.

Ignoring him, I finished scribbling my signature across the latest financial projections on our family holdings. Nathaniel was a hell of a smart businessman. With just a few suggestions from him, our gains had increased. There would be no stopping him once he came on full-time after graduation. He’d actually finished his degree two years ago but kept signing up for classes so he could play hockey. Father didn’t know. Their relationship had reached a point that even I, the hopeful optimistic, didn’t believe it was repairable.

Ronan perused my office as if he was searching for bugs or hidden cameras. Rolling my eyes, I opened my desk drawer and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of vodka. Pouring us both a drink, I sat back and watched my brother. It was hard picturing him as the future head of the family. He was almost as ruthless as my father. What would he be like in another twenty years?

“Little stingy on the pour,” Ronan said. His little barbs never bothered me, which drove him insane. Instead of arguing, I topped off his glass, and he lifted a brow at me.

Taking a sip of my drink, I sat back in the chair and waited. There had to be a reason for Ronan’s visit. He never came to see me unless something was bothering him.

“He’s starting with that old shit again,” Ronan finally said.

“You’re going to have to add more words to that if you want me to understand or comment.”

Ronan took a sip of his vodka. “Father. He’s fucking pushing me to marry one of the mail-order brides he keeps trying to shove on my dick.”

“It’s called marriage, and I’ve seen the women’s files. They are all beautiful and come from very powerful families. Any one of them would be a good match for you. Why are you so against the idea? You’re the next head of the house. You need to have a son, maybe more. Are you planning on having them all as bastards?”

“Fuck you, I can’t stand it when you sound like him.”

“That’s ironic, considering you’re the most like our father,” I said, and Ronan practically snarled at me as he took another sip. “What is the issue?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to get married. I like my life the way it is, and I enjoy the multiple women that I can have whenever I want. I don’t want to tie myself down and give all that up.” I snorted and almost choked on my drink. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Do you really think you’d stay true to your vows anyway? I mean, let’s be real.”

“I might be…if I got to choose who to marry. Father just doesn’t understand what I like.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not falling into a circular battle with you. If you want to choose, then pick from the dozen girls that Father has already zeroed in on or find one that he likes. Court them all and see who you like best. It could be like your own private version of The Bachelor, but honestly, I don’t ever see you tying yourself to one woman and remaining loyal.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not the loyal type. No…that’s not true. You’re loyal to yourself, power, and money just like father, but the rest…well, we’re all expendable to you. Father has a single leg up on you when it comes to family. He’ll do anything for his family, unlike you. Don’t think I don’t know about your scheme with the Irishman. What was his name?”

“Lawrence Collier?”

“Yeah, him.”