“Florian,” he calls out when I don’t respond.
I break free from my thoughts, make my way to the desk, and sit down, placing the tumbler on top of a coaster. With a glare, he stares at the empty glass, narrowing his eyes. His judgmental glower, I ignore. It doesn’t matter to me if the motherfucker doesn’t approve of my choice of drink.
Olan’s beliefs are strange when it comes to certain indulgences, such as alcohol, drugs, and sex. He believes they are vices, weaknesses for his children even if he partakes in them, which he does often, and so do my brothers.
The prostitute whom he’s fucking and sniffing coke from her cunt tells me all his secrets—for a price, of course. While it’s disgusting to hear all the vile things he’s into, I’ll listen to it as long as I learn how to destroy him.
Such a fucking hypocrite.
This meeting needs to end as soon as possible. Today, I’ve been on edge more than usual, barely hanging on to the little sanity I have left. Many think I lost it a long time ago. Sometimes, I can’t disagree with that assessment.
He’s standing, flanked by Asva and Alrick Persson, twin brothers who have been with me since I took over the Larsson Syndicate, to Olan’s disgust. He doesn’t like anyone not associated with the families of Uppsala to be a part of the Syndicate. However, I’ve learned that the people from Uppsala, my people, can’t be trusted, especially if they’re going to be close to me. Most remain loyal to Olan, which is why I recruit from outside Uppsala’s borders.
I grab the bottle of high-end whiskey from the drawer, pour two fingers into the glass, and then slip the bottle back into the drawer. Olan’s scowl only deepens when I take a sip, enjoying the burn of the smooth amber liquid sliding down my throat.
“You’re drinking this early in the morning?” He doesn’t hide his disgust for my choice of an early morning beverage. “You should know better than to do that.”
I ignore his judgmental attitude. I haven’t cared what Olan thinks about my decisions for a long time.
“I have a busy day, Olan.” I sigh. “Why did you need to meet with me this morning?”
I ignore his question and ask one of my own, although I know the answer. His old friend Arthur Williamson has been in touch with him to see if he can stop the inevitable—the takeover of Williamson Holdings,a shipping company I’ve been after for a very long time.
It isn’t going to happen, no matter what Olan says.
“You know why I’m here, Florian. Don’t play stupid. As my son, it’s beneath you,” he growls. “Why are you trying to destroy everything I’ve built? I’ve formed many relationships over the course of my lifetime. These men trust me, and you would steal from them?”
I don’t steal. In fact, I can’t stand a thief and have killed many throughout the years for stealing from me. But what I am is a savvy and shrewd businessman who provides struggling individuals with capital with the promise of repayment of the loan in full plus interest. If payment isn’t made in full by the time determined within the contract, I confiscate their companies or whatever I deem worthy as payment. Sometimes, I’ve used less-than-honorable means to get what is owed to me. I’ve broken a few bones, maimed a few men, and taken a few lives, but I always get what’s owed to me, no matter the means of compensation,whether it’s by blood or money. It’s not thieving. It’s called good business.
“Everything you’ve built?” I scowl, steepling my hands and leaning back in my chair. I take offense at his statement.
When I assumed control, Larsson Industries was in a state of complete chaos. Complaints of sexual harassment, mainly about him, grievances about wages, and employees were jumping ship as fast as they could. Larsson Industries was hanging on by a thread. Now, things have changed. My employees are happy, and work production has multiplied tenfold under my leadership. So, he hasn’t done shit.
“You haven’t built shit, Olan. What you see around you,” I motion around the room with outstretched arms, “I’ve built with my blood, sweat, and tears. If it wasn’t for me, there wouldn’t be a Larsson Industries. Remember, you came to me just like Arthur and the rest of your friends because you needed my help. Not the other way around.”
He doesn’t like me to mention the deal we made. He doesn’t like to admit he needed his bastard’s help. My little brother owed ungodly amounts of money due to his drug habit, but Olan wanted to save face. He didn’t want the other families catching wind of a Larsson being addicted to drugs, although I’m sure everyone already knew. So, he asked if I would pay my brother’s debts because even though I held the Larsson name, no one at the time knew I was his son. And if they did, they didn’t speak of it because he threatens anyone who questions who I am.
He believed he was using me, but I saw it as my opening to take him down, and I took it. He put Larsson Industries on the line, and now I own it while Olan’s precious image remains intact.
I don’t mind helping my youngest brother. In fact, I would have done it for free. Out of all my family, Didrick’s the only one I will ever help, but Olan presented me with an opportunity Icouldn’t refuse. I saw it as my chance to destroy my father. I saw it as a chance for all of us to be free of him.
“You ungrateful little shit!” He takes a step forward, but Asva and Alrick grab him by the arms. “This is my company!” He struggles against their hold. “We are supposed to be a fucking family, and you stole it from me!”
Family?
“Let him go.” I wave my hand dismissively, and Alrick glares at me. “There’s nothing he can do to me,” I assure both Asva and Alrick. When they release him, I tilt my head, smiling at my old man as he smooths non-existent wrinkles from his expensive Armani suit. “I haven’t stolen shit from you, Olan. If you would’ve paid your debt like everyone else who comes to me with their fucking hand out, you’d be in a different position.”
“You tricked me!” He points his finger at me. “And you know it.”
I smile, and he narrows his eyes at me. “Tricked would not be the term I would use, Olan. No one tricked you. You knew exactly the terms of my deal before you agreed to it.”
He isn’t as smart as he thinks, and as a businessman, you should always read the fine print. Olan didn’t. He automatically assumed I’ll do anything for him, that I crave any kind of attention he’s willing to give me. Maybe when I was a kid, but I haven’t wanted his attention for years. I only want what is owed to me as his firstborn son.
The Larsson empire. I want it all, including his life.
When I was old enough to learn that he was nothing more than a money-grubbing bastard who couldn’t care less that I have his blood running through my veins, everything changed for me. That knowledge stripped me of any hope he’d be the father I need and deserve.
He made it clear I wasn’t his son, and that’s when I knew I had to do things my way. Getting close to Olan and pretending tobeg for whatever scraps of attention he’d give me, was the easiest part of my plan to oust him from his company and claim my place on the Larsson throne from the age of sixteen.
