Page 51 of Ever After Between the Lines (Montgomery Ink Legacy)

ASTON

The Cages are the most prestigious family in Denver—at least according to the patriarch of the Cage Family.

And the Cages have rules.

Rules only they know.

I always knew that one day my father would die. I hadn’t realized that day would come so soon. Or that the last words I would say to him would’ve been in anger.

I had been having one of the best nights of my life, a beautiful woman in my arms, and a smile on my face when I received the phone call that had changed my family’s life.

The fact that I had been smiling had been a shock, because according to my brothers, I didn’t smile much. I was far too busy being The Cage of Cage Enterprises.

We were a dominant force in the city of Denver when it came to certain real estate ventures, as well as being one of the only ethical and environmentally friendly ones who tried to keep up with that.

We had our hands in countless different pots around the world, but mostly we gravitated in the state of Colorado—our home.

I had not created the company, no, that honor had gone to my grandfather, and then my father.

The Cage Enterprises were and would always be a family endeavor.

And when my father had stepped away a few years ago, stating he had wanted to see the world, and also see if his sons could actually take up the mantle, I had stepped in—not that the man believed we could.

My brothers were in various roles within the company, at least those who had wanted to be part of it. But I was the face of Cage Enterprises.

So no, I hadn’t smiled often. There wasn’t time.

We weren’t billionaires with mega yachts.

We worked seventy-hour weeks to make sure all our employees had a livable wage while wining and dining with those who looked down at us for not being on their level.

And others thought we were the high and mighty anyway since they didn’t understand us. So, I didn’t smile.

But I had smiled that night.

It had been a gala for some charity, one I couldn’t even remember off the top of my head. We had donated between the company and my own finances—we always did. But I couldn’t even remember anything about why we were there.

Yet I could remember her smile. The heat in her eyes when she had looked up at me, the feel of her body pressed against mine as we had danced along the dance floor, and then when we ended up in the hallway, bodies pressed against one another, needing each other, wanting each other.

And I had put aside all my usual concepts of business and life to have this woman in my arms.

And then my mother had called and had shattered that illusion.

“Your father is dead.”

She hadn’t even braced me for the blow. A heart attack on a vacation on a beach in Majorca, and he was dead. She hadn’t cried, hadn’t said anything, just told me that I had to be the one to tell my brothers.

And so, I had, all six of them. Because of course Loren Cage would have seven sons. He couldn’t do things just once, he had to make sure he left his legacy, his destiny.

And that was why we were here today, in a high-rise in Centennial, waiting on my father’s lawyer to show up with the reading of the will.

“Hey, when is Winstone going to get here?” Dorian asked, his typical high energy playing on his face, and how he tapped his fingers along the hand-carved wooden table.

I stared at my brother, at those piercing blue eyes that matched my own, and frowned. He should be here soon. He did call us all here after all.”

“I still don’t know why we all had to be here for the reading of the will,” Hudson whispered as he stared off into the distance.

Neither Dorian nor Hudson worked for Cage Enterprises.

They had stock with the company, and a few other connections because that’s what family did, but they didn’t work on the same floors as some of us and hadn’t been elbow to elbow with our father before he had retired.

Though dear old dad had worked in our small town more often than not in the end.

In fact, Hudson didn’t even live in Denver anymore.

He had moved to the town we owned in the mountains.

Because of course we Cages owned a damned town.

Part of me wasn’t sure if the concept of having our name on everything within the town had been on purpose or had occurred organically.

Though knowing my grandfather, perhaps it had been exactly what he’d wanted.

He had bought up a few buildings, built a few more, and now we owned three-quarters of the town, including the major resort which brought in tourists and income.

And that was why we were here.

“You have to be here because you’re evidently in the will,” I said softly, trying not to get annoyed that we were waiting for our father’s lawyer. Again.

“You would think he would be able to just send us a memo. I mean, it should be clear right? We all know what stakes we have in, we should just be able to do things evenly,” Theo said, his gaze off into the distance.

My younger brother also didn’t work for the company, instead he had decided to go to culinary school, something my father had hated.

But you couldn’t control a Cage, that was sort of our deal.

“Why would you be cut out of the will?” I asked, honestly curious.

“Because I married a man and a woman,” he drawled out. “You know he hasn’t spoken to me since before the wedding,” Ford said, and I saw the hurt in his gaze even though I knew he was probably trying to hide it.

“Well, he was an asshole, what do you expect?” James asked.

I looked behind Ford to see my brother and co-chair of Cage Enterprises standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out the window.

With Flynn, our vice president, standing beside him, they looked like the heads of businesses they were. While they wore suits and so did I, we were the only ones.

Dorian and Hudson were both in jeans, Hudson’s having a hole at the knee.

And probably not as a fashion statement, most likely because it had torn at some point, and he hadn’t bothered to buy another pair.

Theo was in slacks, but a Henley with his sleeves pushed up, tapping his finger just like Hudson, clearly wanting to get out of here as well.

Ford had on cargo pants, and a tight black T-shirt, and looked like he had just gotten off his shift.

He owned a security company with his husband and a few other friends, and did security for the Cages when he could, though I knew he didn’t like to work with family often.

And I knew it wasn’t because of us. No, it was Father—even if he had officially retired . It was always Father.

And he was gone.

“Can’t believe the asshole’s gone,” I whispered.

Ford’s brows rose. “Look at that, you calling him an asshole. I’m proud.”

“You should show him respect,” Mother said as she came inside the room, her high heels tapping against the marble floors. I didn’t bother standing up like I normally would have, because Melanie Cage looked to be in a mood .

She didn’t look sad that Dad was gone, more like angry that he would dare go against their plans. What plans? I didn’t know, but that was my mother.

She came right up to Dorian and leaned down to kiss his cheek. She didn’t even bother to look at the rest of us. Dorian was Mother’s favorite. Which I knew Dorian resented, but I didn’t have to deal with mommy issues at this moment.

No, we had to deal with father issues at this point.

“I’m going to go get him,” Flynn replied, turning toward the door. “I’m really not in the mood to wait any longer, especially since he’s being so secretive about this meeting.”

As I had been thinking just the same, I nodded at Flynn though he didn’t need my permission. However, just then, the door opened, and I frowned when it wasn’t just Mr. Winstone walking into the conference room.

I stared as an older woman walked through the door following Mr. Winstone, and four women and another man with messy hair and tattered cut-up jeans that matched Hudson’s walked behind them.

The guy looked familiar, as if I’d seen him somewhere, or maybe it was just his eyes.

Where had I seen those eyes before?

“Phoebe? What are you doing here?” Ford asked as he moved forward and gripped the hands of one of the women.

“I was going to ask the same question,” Phoebe asked as she looked at Ford, then around the room.

Those of us sitting stood up, confused about why this other family—because they were clearly a family—had decided to enter the room.

“We’re here to meet the lawyer about my father’s death, Ford.

Why would you and the Cages be here?” she asked, and I wondered how the hell Mr. Winstone had fucked up so badly?

Why the hell was he letting another family that clearly seemed to be in shock come into our room?

This wasn’t how he normally handled things.

Ford was the one who answered though—thankfully—because I had no idea what the hell was going on.

“Phoebe, we’re here for my dad’s will reading. What the hell is going on?” he asked. Phoebe looked around, as well as the others.

I stared at them, at the tall willowy one with wide eyes, at the smaller one with tears still in her eyes as if she was the only one truly mourning, and at the woman who seemed to be in charge, not the mother.

Instead she had shrewd eyes and was glaring at all of us.

The man stood back, hands in pockets, and looked just as shell-shocked as Ford.

But before Mr. Winstone or anyone else could say anything, my mother spoke in such a crisp, icy tone that I froze.

“I don’t know why you’re acting so dramatic. You knew your father was an asshole. He just liked creating drama,” she snapped.

As I tried to catch up with her words, the older woman answered. “Melanie, stop.”