Page 81 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set

“What kind of asshole are you?” Chance demands. “Taking advantage of a woman who has MS? Who’s worked her ass off her whole life to build up her business? Who does that kind of shit?”

Chance listened when I explained my background. About my mom.

“Look, man.” Greg backs away, hands up, as if they will protect him.

Can’t blame the guy. Chance is the size of a Mack truck and I know what his punch feels like.

“Like I said, I don’t want any trouble,” he repeats. “I’m just the pilot.”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking broken record. Then you shouldn’t have taken our routes.”

“Take it up with my boss, man.” He points toward the end of the doc where the small Sea-Air office is.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I say. “We’ll take it up with him. After this.”

I step up and punch him in the face.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t fall to the dock or into the water, but he rocks back. “Ow, shit. What the fuck, man?” His hand goes to his clearly broken nose, blood seeping between his fingers and down his chin.

“You fuck with Lovering Air, you fuck with my mother, you get me.” I snarl. “That punch was for her.”

Greg’s right. He’s just the pilot. While he’s smart enough to get his license, he’s a fucking patsy for doing what his boss says, including being a slimy shit and stealing routes as part of his job. He could’ve manned up and told the fucker no and he’d have had a legit job at Lovering.

I turn and head down the dock to the office and deal with his boss—the one who wanted to fuck us over.

I stalk off, my brothers following, ready to deal with the next guy who fucked with what’s mine.

“Can I punch the next one?” Chance asks.

I swear I hear him crack his knuckles behind me.

I have to laugh. It’s pretty cool to have brothers. I might soon have billions, but not everything is solved by tossing money around. A few punches might need to be thrown, too. Even after a short time, Chance and Miles have my back. For once, I don’t feel alone in all the shit that’s piled up.

“I’ll be goddamned!” Miles laughs up a storm as we drive back to Mom’s. “Chance, buddy, I have new respect for you.”

“You didn’t respect me before I threatened the owner?” Chance asks innocently, glancing over at Miles who’s in the back seat.

“That fucking helped,” I say.

We stormed into the office and for some reason, Chance had more anger toward the asshole than I did, which was a metric shit-ton. He didn’t give the guy much choice between giving back the routes that had been stolen or eating through a straw for the next few months. The shithead agreed to call the clients he’d poached and tell them he’d solely been filling in. That he’d continue to do so until Lovering Air has a replacement pilot. So generous of him.

Chance was scary as fuck. For once, I’m glad his anger was aimed at someone else.

“You didn’t exactly welcome us into your life with open arms,” I remind him.

“I—”

“Brother, it’s okay. Especially after that.” I clap him on the shoulder while I man the steering wheel with the other hand.

I’m driving us back to the Lovering office because I need to fly today’s routes while Mom and Miles work on finding a new pilot.

“You’re the one who punched a guy back there. I only threatened,” Chance says. “Though I have to admit I’d have liked to remove the teeth from that smug little mouth of his.”

“Your threat was enough,” I say. “Thanks. As for before, when we first showed up at the ranch. I know you had your reasons for hating me.”

“Us,” Miles adds.

“I get it,” I continue. “And you’ve more than made up for it today. One look at you and that Sea-Air fucker nearly pissed himself.”