Chapter One
Thorne
They say blood is thicker than water, but in my family, it’s bourbon. It runs in our veins, ruling and ruining us in equal measure.
“Thorne, are you listening?” my brother asks.
I nod, not that he can see me since we’re talking on the phone. “Yeah, I heard you.” After taking a small sip of my bourbon, I continue. “Dad skipped the Blackstone Derby party to fuck hismistress and died in a car accident with her lips wrapped around his dick.”
Sebastian coughs. “Not exactly what I said,” he mutters, “but close enough. Are you coming home for the funeral?”
It’s been three years since I volunteered to run our international operations from Quebec. The move gave me more power with the company, but all I’d wanted was distance from Kentucky. Coming home, even for short visits, is stepping back into the role my father carved out for me in bourbon and blood. Quebec bought me distance. Kentucky will demand payment for every day I’ve been away.
“Will you come home for Mother?” he asks.
“Yes,” I clip. “I’ll be there for her. That’s the only reason I’m coming back. Not for him.”
Never for him. The old man could rot in the ground for all I care, and I wouldn’t shed a single tear.
Sebastian’s sigh is heavy. "Thorne—"
"Don’t ask me to mourn him. Don’t ask me to pretend he was something other than what he was."
“I wasn’t going to.”
"Good. Because I’ve spent thirty-six years wishing he was different, wishing I was different, wishing we were the kind of father and son who could sit in the same room without bloodshed. At least that wish can be buried along with his body."
Sebastian is quiet for a moment. “Yeah, at least there’s that.” He exhales slowly. “Since the funeral is tomorrow, I assume you are coming after. When’s your flight?”
“I’ll be at the funeral. I’m on the passenger train from Quebec to Kentucky.” I glance at the setting sun from the couch in my sleeper car. My reflection stares back at me in the window. I’ve grown a short beard. The suit fits better since trading excessive drinking for working out. I look different, but whether the maninside has actually changed? That’s the gamble I’m not sure I’m winning.
"Okay." Sebastian pauses, like he’s recalibrating. "Well, then there’s something else you’ll want to be in on..."
“Which is?”
“An informational meeting after the funeral.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fuck, Bastian, spit it out. What’s going on?”
“The details of the accident haven’t leaked to the press. The cop that arrived on scene promised to keep it under wraps.”
“Okay… what’s the problem?”
“Madison isn’t making the same promise—”
“Who the fuck is Madison?”
“The kid Dad had with his mistress. She’s fourteen.”
We’d all know our father fucked around. He hadn’t worked very hard to hide it. I’d heard the rumors about another family, but confirmation is still a kick to the head.
“She wants to meet with us, and if we don’t agree, she’ll meet withBluegrass Buzz,” he finishes.
I stand, needing to pace. That parasite column has been circling my family for decades, desperate for any crack in the Blackstone armor. They’ve turned every business acquisition, every charity gala, every damn rumor into front-page speculation about the “secretive empire behind Kentucky’s bourbon throne.”
“First, how the hell did she even get a chance to talk to you?” I snap. “And why am I just now hearing about it?”
“Because Lillianna and I were going to handle it. I wasn’t sure if you were even coming home.”
