Page 4 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)
My heart rate kicks up a notch, and I clear my throat, trying to play it cool as alarm bells start clanging in my head. Could Georgina have leaked something? No, surely not. She wouldn't risk her precious cash flow.
I wrack my brain, trying to recall anything newsworthy I've done lately.
I read the economy and tech sections religiously, but something tells me that's not what Cora is hinting at.
It's been months since I last made a public appearance—I loathe the parties and vapid schmoozing required of a man in my position. I avoid that scene like the plague.
For a split second, I'm tempted to whip out my phone and start Googling, but I resist the urge. Cora is toying with me, dangling some juicy tidbit, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of rising to the bait.
“How was the Broadman wedding?” Dad asks.
Cora entertains us with tales of her latest event-planning endeavor. Unlike me, my sister leads a vibrant life, and her stories could easily fill an entire week. I doubt there’s anyone she’s met who isn’t captivated by her charm. She’s like the opposite image of me.
“…So even though I explicitly told them to keep the vows short and sweet—no one wants to listen to their rumbles for twenty minutes straight—they insisted.” Cora pauses for effect, her eyes sparkling with barely suppressed glee. “And do you know what happened?”
Dad shakes his head, clearly intrigued.
“After half an hour of speeches, the groom’s mother fell asleep. Asleep in the middle of her son’s ceremony! She even snored.” Cora breaks into giggles.
“These ceremonies are boring even without the speeches,” I agree.
Dad turns his attention to me, his expression stern. “Logan, if you find the ceremonies so boring, you can have a short one.”
I inhale, bracing myself for the familiar lecture. If he were anyone else, I would have snapped by now, but with Dad, it’s best to just nod and let it pass.
“And Cora,” Dad continues, his tone softening as he shifts his focus, “I think it would be a good idea for you to consider going on a date with Nathaniel Ashford. His family has been in the banking industry for generations, and he’s recently been promoted to a senior executive position at his father’s firm. ”
Cora’s smile falters, and she shifts in her seat. “Dad, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not interested in dating someone just because of their family’s wealth or position.”
Dad sighs, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “Nathaniel is a fine young man, and it would be beneficial for both of you to get to know each other better. I just want to see you both settled down and happy. Your mother would have wanted that too.”
He pauses for a moment, his gaze hardening. “And speaking of settling down, I’ve heard some concerning reports about Lucas’s behavior in Hong Kong. Do either of you know anything about it?”
Cora shrugs, and I shake my head. I won’t be the one to burn the tower down.
“Well, I intend to put an end to it once he comes home. This family has a reputation to uphold.”
An awkward silence settles over the room, and I wish I could be anywhere else but here, trapped in this conversation with my father’s expectations weighing heavily on my shoulders.
I glance at Cora, seeing the discomfort in her eyes, and I know that despite Dad’s soft spot for her, even she isn’t immune to his relentless push for us to conform to his idea of a successful life.
The mention of Lucas only adds to the tension, and I wonder what kind of trouble our brother has gotten himself into this time.
“So, what did I miss?” Liam enters the room, slapping me hard on the shoulder before sprawling out on the couch.
“Just Cora stories,” I mutter.
Her pretty face scrunches into a frown. "Hey now, don't say it like that. At least I have exploits to share, Mister Workaholic Recluse. What have you been up to lately, besides scaring your employees half to death with your charming demeanor?"
Liam laughs. "Speaking of our resident ogre's people skills, you'll never guess what happened at the office. Logan here broke his own record and got an employee to resign without even talking to him.”
“What?” Cora and I ask at once, our brows furrowing.
“This afternoon an employee informed me he feels that there’s a hostile atmosphere in the company, and he can no longer work for us. You know why? Because he saw you on our floor last week. You scared him.”
I glance at Dad who says nothing, just purses his lips with disappointment in his eyes, then I turn back to address Liam. “Did I scare him just by being on the same floor as him? I didn’t even say a word outside the meeting room,” I remark, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly. That’s why I said it was a new record. He thinks you were yelling at me in the conference room.”
“I yelled at you?” I sit up straight. “You’re the one who yelled at me. I never shout. Never.” I shake my head. “Unbelievable,” I declare, leaning back with a resigned shrug. “Now I can’t even walk around in my own company headquarters.”
“Maybe you should be a little less harsh with them?” Cora suggests.
“I have high standards for myself, and I expect no less from my team. If they can't handle that, they're free to seek employment elsewhere. I won't coddle incompetence.”
Cora throws up her hands in defeat. “Fine, it's your funeral. No wonder you made the list.”
Enough is enough. I need to understand what she’s talking about. “Show me whatever article you’re referring to,” I demand, my curiosity piqued as I lean forward, eager to see what has prompted this discussion.
She opens her phone, swiftly navigates to the article, and aims the screen at me, her expression unreadable as I scan the title.
The Fifty Most Powerful and Cruel CEOs in the World.
Well, at least Georgina isn’t responsible for this. I scoff. “Where did I end up?”
Cora mocks a wide grin. “Twenty-three.”
“Huh. Plenty of room for improvement, then.”
The chef appears at the arched entryway to inform us that dinner is served. We troop into the formal dining room, an elegant affair of gleaming mahogany and glittering chandeliers, and take our seats around the long table.
There’s a palpable silence as the chef pours the crab bisque into our bowls.
“Mom’s favorite dish,” Cora remarks, her gaze lingering on the offering. “She was…”
“She was what?” Liam asks, his voice laced with agitation. “She left us.”
“She didn’t leave,” I interject in a hushed tone. “She died. It’s not a choice.”
“Really?” Liam’s eyes dart toward Dad, seeking validation, but Dad remains impassive. “Because I think she left us long before that day.” With a frustrated sigh, Liam slaps his napkin onto the table and storms out of the room.