Page 9 of The Billionaire's Redemption
“A past?” Jake asks sarcastically, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. “Where? In your dreams?”
I frown harder. “I’m sorry. Just because we’re twins doesn’tmean we’re supposed to be attached at the hip all the time. I had a fling. You weren’t invited. End of story.”
“You had a fling with the sister of the man who screwed you over?” Jake gives me a bewildered look that suggests he thinks I’ve lost my mind. “Excuse me if I have a hard time buying that my brother, who calculates every fucking breath, had a fling with his business rival’s sister?”
“Lucas Thorne is hardly a business rival,” I scoff dismissively.
“He thinks he is,” Jake points out grimly, his lawyer brain already seeing the potential complications. “And he’s not stopped trying to screw you over even five years after what he did.”
“Look,” I lean forward, my voice calm yet edged with steel. “When I ask for your two fucking cents, you can give them. Right now, I want you out of my office so I can work.”
My brother takes a slow, deep breath as if preparing to drop a bomb on me, before finally saying with theatrical solemnity, “I’m going to tell Mom you used the f-word.”
I growl, completely exasperated with his childish tactics. “Get out, Jake!”
He gets to his feet and grabs his briefcase with wounded dignity. “Fine. But I’m telling you, this is not a good idea. I have two rules: You don’t sleep with crazy, and you don’t sleep with someone who has crazy running in their family. And the Thorne family has crazy in their blood.”
“Out!” I roar, getting to my feet with enough force to make my chair roll backward.
Jake flees, slamming the door shut behind him, but not before getting in the last word with typical lawyer precision. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Glaring at the doorway, I try to even out my breathing. My brother has the innate ability to drive me up the fucking wall without even breaking a sweat.
Sinking back into my chair, I rub my temples before pressing the intercom button with more force than necessary.
Clarice walks in a moment later, carrying a cup of black coffee and looking professionally composed despite the drama she’s just witnessed.
“Put it here.” I tap the desk curtly. “Clarice, call Mike from Interior Furnishings. Tell him to send you the latest furniture catalogue. I want every piece of furniture on this floor replaced by the end of the day.”
Clarice nods without missing a beat. “What about the other rooms? One of them has a built-in sauna, one has an entire golf track?—”
I hold up a hand to stop her litany. “I get the picture. Have everything stripped. Tell Mike to see what he wants to take, and sell it at half price to him. The rest can be donated. Every room should be converted into an office. Jake doesn’t get an option of what kind of furniture he gets. You know my preferences. Also, get this entire floor cleaned by our cleaning company. I want this place spotless by morning.”
“Understood.” Clarice doesn’t so much as flinch at the extensive orders.
I pick up the coffee and take a sip, the bitter taste helping to clear my head. “We’ll be conducting interviews in the morning. Let Miss Thorne know her presence is required for said interviews, unless she wants me to start firing people without her input.”
Clarice blinks once, processing the underlying threat. “In those exact words, or would you like me to paraphrase?”
“Don’t get snarky with me. I have Jake for that.”
“Paraphrase then.” Clarice nods at me with understanding.
She steps out of the office, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering tension from Jake’s visit.
Jake may have called Lucas a business rival, but the truth is my old friend can’t even scratch the surface of what I’veachieved. The Wilder name inspires confidence in the business world. I have taken over many failing businesses and revived them, gathering them under the umbrella of the Wilder Group, a conglomerate that is still growing globally.
Lucas, on the other hand, built his business on the back of my stolen clients. Though Thorne Enterprises is a hot company, expanding and branching out into different industries within the States, Lucas is not successful by any meaningful measure. Calling him a rival is laughable. He has nothing I want.
Except for one thing.
I reach into my pocket, retrieving a purple silk scrunchie that’s become worn from years of handling. It’s faded and frayed—the only thing left behind in the hotel room that fateful night, five years ago.
I’ve always been a proud man. I’ve never bowed my head before anybody, never questioned my decisions without thorough analysis. Unlike my siblings, I’ve always been level-headed and meticulous. Jake and Caleb are hard-working, but they let their emotions rule them. Megan is just starting out in her career as a fashion designer, and she’s hot-headed and impulsive. Nick is the only one I can relate to, but he also has an impulsive streak that occasionally gets him into trouble. While I have taken risks when it came to business or my personal life, they were always calculated risks. I’ve always made sure the damage would be something I could recoup from.
Until Natalie.
I didn’t get what I wanted out of her, so I chalked it up to a failed risk—a rare miscalculation in an otherwise perfect record. I was so sure that walking away from her would be easy.
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