“Actually—you,” my father replies. “As the new CEO of Etheridge Enterprises, I was hoping we could discuss renewing the terms of our long-established territory agreement.” A side glance at Elton makes the prick smirk.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Grant.” Daniel snorts. “I don’t know you from Adam, and I don’t sign contracts with complete strangers who are openly a threat to my family.”
This fucker.
Kane throws me a warning glare when my hands ball into a fist.
“Listen, golden child, you are way out of line,” Tom intervenes. “Barely grown into your shoes and you already think you can redraw lines carved by men twice your age? I would tread carefully if I were you—this isn’t a game you’re old enough to lose. You’d be wise to keep to the boundaries we have agreed and maintained.”
Eva’s face turns red. Her eyes dart between my father, Tom, and Daniel, lips caught between bites as she chews nervously.
“Just because I share the name doesn’t mean I share the burden. When it comes to protecting my family, I will not be manipulated to honor the deals you made in the dark.”
Elton smirks with a hand in his pocket, a spectator enjoying his favorite show.
Eva’s gaze flicks sharply to me. My lips lift on one corner—half instinct, half lie, a quiet attempt at reassurance is all I can offer right now. One that’s hard to give with her brother pushing his luck.
Tom is about to go off the handle, but restrains himself when my father holds up a hand.
“That’s fair.” My father speaks only to Daniel. Even I’m surprised at how calm he sounds. “I don’t take the protection of Fort families lightly, either. Of coursewedon’t need hired guards to protect us.” He cocks his head toward the men in black, observing, their shoulders squared. Unlike the rest of the room, which is watching with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “But you already know that. Or you wouldn’t have sent bodyguards with your sister, inside an already high-security campus.”
Daniel’s eyes sharpen at my father’s unexpected response. His poker face cracks again. “If that’s your attempt at a veiled threat…”
“It’s not,” my father shoots back, no room for misinterpretation. “As much as it would surprise you, I welcome any head of Etheridge Enterprises that replaces Elton.” He motions toward the viper, whose smile falters. “But, do not mistake my tolerance for acceptance. When you are satisfied that we are not a threat to your family, give me a call, and we can renew our terms. Until that time, I consider our truce null and void. If you are coming for Fort lands, London’s fair game for us.”
Hugo flashes me a grin, all teeth and appetite. His night just got started. Even Kane seems amused at the prospect. Neither of them are as ecstatic as Mattia Morelli will be when he hears we can trade in London again.
Daniel’s smirk lifts his face, and he offers a hand to my father.
“Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Grant.”
23
EVA
It’s a disaster.
He is here. Not just him. All of them. Each one scarier than the next.
Seriously, I’m not sure who I’m more afraid of. Grandpa, who has never been so silent; Dan, who is acting like he is the emperor of the world; Reginald Grant, who is more dangerous calm, than Thomas Pike angry; or Mason who has been recklessly hunting me around the ballroom all bloody night.
Is he crazy?
I can’t speak to him here.
Not after the very public altercation between our families.
After leaving him at that hilltop three days ago, I didn’t know when I would see Mason again. Dan has found some event or the other for me to attend, even dragging me to his boring meetings, slowly but surely, postponing my return. He even went so far to arrange one-to-one virtual sessions with my professors, where I couldn’t hide in the back with my head down.
A part of me is relieved to see Mason, another is horrified at the prospect of being seen with him.
It doesn’t help that he's wearing a dark brown fitted suit that draws out the molten chocolate of his eyes and does nothing to hide the sculpted power beneath. His dominant, merciless presence pulls focus the way it always does—effortlessly, undeniably. Even from across the room, he exudes that pull, gravity wrapped in arrogance.
But I can’t. Not tonight.
I try my best to avoid him. Faking conversations with strangers who smile at me from all directions, or downing glasses of champagne to ease the nerves—something I have been practicing for the last few days. But when he drifts closer still, chasing me around the hall, I ask Grandpa to join me on the dance floor. Even though my feet are like stone, walking on these foot-eaters all night.
Still, he doesn’t give up.
