Page 131 of Collide

“Mentoring you?” It feels dirty leaving my mouth.

Broderick doesn’t flinch. “Your father’s a shrewd businessman. El, I get that you don’t like him, but there’s no one better to learn from.”

Oh, he picked up on my dislike for Mortimer. If Mortimer was shrewd, so was he.

“Aww, do you guys golf together and wear matching polos?” I shoot back, leaning into the bite.

“Yeah,” he says, deadpan. “I think we have a matching plaid set.”

We both laugh.

Fine.Mortimer Montgomery runs a billion-dollar empire. Anyone in business would probably claw their own face off to be mentored by him. I can’t blame Broderick for the hustle, even if heisfrom money. That’s how rich people stay rich: brush shoulders with the rich, or richer, and keep climbing.

I tilt my head, eyes narrowing.

“So…what exactlyisgood business?” I ask, softer now. The question feels like it matters more than I want it to.

From the gala, I gathered they build stuff around the world. But his venture—it has me curious. I want to know what makes Broderick tick.

“Major redevelopment projects around the world. Ethical housing. Urban renewal, especially in third-world countries. Major infrastructure. Stocks. I also fund a few successful tech start-ups—mostly proprietary tech for property management.”

He says it like he’s rattling off lunch options. No ego, no showmanship. Just facts.

I study him.

There’s something disarming about the way he speaks. How open he is. No pretense. No careful calculations or smoke screens.

When I asked Alex the same question, he’d dodged it—eyes flashing, lips curving around half-truths. Sure, he was trying tokeep his identity hidden. But still. The comparison doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What?” I exclaim. “That’s kind of a big deal.”

“Not really.” He shrugs, casual as ever. Like owning entire city blocks and rebuilding countries is no more impressive than remembering to water his plants.

I narrow my eyes.

Liar.

I pull out my phone and quickly type his name into the search engine.

My eyes widen instantly.

Article after article floods my screen.

On him.

On his work.

“The billionaire builder with a heart of gold,” I read aloud, my lips curling into a teasing grin.

“El—” he protests, looking almost embarrassed, reaching for my phone. I stand, walking away, laughing.

“Oh, look at you, hot stuff, ‘Forbes Under Thirty-Five,’” I announce with mock excitement, waving the phonejustout of his reach.

He lunges forward, and I lean back further, nearly tripping.

He could easily grab it if he wanted to, overpower me, but he’s being respectful. The challenge of pushing him to the edge excites me.

“Social Entrepreneurship Award, two years running!” I continue dramatically, still scrolling. He wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me toward him as I squirm playfully.