Page 115 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

I pulled up in front of my house not a moment too soon. It seemed as though everyone had arrived at the same time. My siblings and their spouses. Well, that would be only Aurora’s and Alessio’s spouses. And now mine. Kingston was here alone and Royce was yet to convince his woman to wed him.

The moment I was out of my car, another one pulled up. It stopped barely ten feet from me with screeching brakes, and I cursed under my breath. It was Father.

My gaze flicked to find my youngest brother, but he’d already disappeared. Kingston was good at sticking to the shadows, whereas my father forever craved the spotlight.

The car doors opened and slammed. Father stormed toward me. He always lost his head, while I never lost mine. Well, almost never. My wife was the exception.

“Married,” he hissed. “Fucking married. I thought you’d marry Nicki.”

Among many things, my father was delusional. Even after six years, he wanted to connect our family name to the Popovas. I’d rather cut my dick off than let that happen. Besides, she was nothing but a nauseating memory, and the only way that would happen was if he married her.

“You thought wrong.” I sauntered past him and pressed a kiss to Aurora’s cheek. “Hey, sis. How’s it going?” I gave Alexei, her husband, a nod in greeting—he was never one to appreciate any form of physical contact unless it came from my baby sister.

She winked. “This dinner will be fun,” she muttered under her breath. I knew she’d have rather skipped this evening altogether and not see Father, but it was our family tradition, and she’d come here for us. Her brothers.

“We can always stick to speaking French and pretend not to understand your dad,” Alessio’s wife, Autumn, muttered. She was French Canadian. “He pretends he understands, but he doesn’t.”

A round of chuckles followed while our father still fumed with rage, waiting for us to get a move on and head inside.

I high-fived Kostya next. “Hey, buddy. Long time no see.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “You saw us three weeks ago.”

I grinned. “Like I said, long time.”

“Who’s starving?” Royce announced. “I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.”

“You are a horse, Royce.” My father was a fucking asshole, but at least the rest of us had enough curtesy not to call him out on it. Royce hated his guts and didn’t even stop to acknowledge him as he made his way inside my home.

“Show us your wife, Byron,” Royce said, ignoring Father. “I can’t believe another Ashford bites the dust. It’s just Winston, Kingston, and myself left.”

I didn’t bother correcting him. Winston would have to do that himself.

“Father, I believe I made it clear this dinner was for siblings only.” My voice was calm, but my fury wasn’t. I promised my wife to keep my father away from her, and I was a man who kept his promises.

He waved his hands dramatically, his gray hair flying all over the place. “I gave you all life. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

“We have repaid your sperm donation many times over,” I grumbled.

Suddenly, Father grabbed his chest as his knees wobbled. “My heart,” he whimpered. “My doctor told me to keep stress levels low. Aurora, I don’t know how much longer I have.” I studied him with disbelief. This manipulative, crazy son of a bitch.

Aurora extended her hand reluctantly and supported our father by his elbow. “Should we call you an ambulance?”

Father shook his head. “No, no, no. I just need to rest for a minute. Could you take me inside? I don’t want to keel over in the driveway. Can you imagine what a field day the press would have? Senator Ashford died in front of his son’s house while he was inside having dinner with his siblings.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. Aurora had a backbone but also a soft heart. She didn’t care for our father, but she didn’t wish him harm either.

“Okay,” she caved. She shot me a pleading look. “Let me take you inside for a little bit.” Then as if she could read my mind, she added, “Just for a little bit.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Take him into the barroom.” Nobody went into that room. I’d have preferred to shove him in the broom closet, but my baby sister wouldn’t approve. There were limits that she wouldn’t allow us to cross, although she didn’t care much for our father either.

We made our way up the marble, tiered cake-like stairs and entered the foyer. Loud music drummed with a bass, shaking the chandelier. Alexei cocked his eyebrow and all of us followed the sound of music. I failed to remind Odette we had dinner obligations, and I was starting to regret it. She liked to strut around the house wearing skimpy shorts and a tank top. Normally I didn’t mind it, but I didn’t want anyone else to see her like that.

I paused in the living room doorway where my wife usually spent most of the time and found her and my son laughing, some ridiculously loud song blaring through the Bose speakers. Ares and Odette were jumping around, dancing and screaming the words of the song. I glanced at the screen of my Bose system. “HandClap” by Fitz and The Tantrums scrolled across it.

I smiled. The words weren’t bad, but my wife and son butchered them.