Page 8 of To Tango, with Desire

“Don’t you want to know the truth about her death?”

“I’d rather you leave.”

Kade’s sly smile shifted, his grin stretching across his face in what was meant to be a charming manner. I refused to take the bait. My mother had died of a heart attack when I’d been eighteen. The doctors had declared the cause as an undiagnosed heart condition and a hard life of poverty that had contributed to it. Kade was being a dickhead, trying to stir up trouble as always.

I gripped the armrest, determined not to succumb to the urge to smash Kade’s teeth in. The last time I’d punched him, there’d been blood . . .

And as satisfying as that had been, I’d vowed never to lose control like that again. I wasn’t a street kid anymore.

“Contact the lawyers yet?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Actually, it is now. Given that Omar has named me as the sole beneficiary of his estate.”

“Congratulations. I don’t give a shit.”

“I heard Cunningham was sniffing around.”

“I don’t care.”

“So you haven’t spoken to him?”

“That’s none of your business.”

I hadn’t, of course. Elijah Cunningham, Omar’s long-time lawyer and executor of the will, had tried contacting me just before I’d left for Europe, but I wanted none of it. Omar’s death had been hard. He’d been the only father figure I’d ever known. He’d given me a lot to be grateful for, and his absence was something I still felt.

I had no interest in benefiting from the man’s death. Not after he’d saved me and my mother all those years ago.

I looked up as Kade shifted, his foot tapping on the polished floor. The man looked on edge, like he was trying too hard to appear relaxed. Did I make him nervous, or was there something else going on?

“Zane, the truth is, I want to put the past behind us. Move on.”

I leaned forward, trying my best to swallow my disbelief. The man was deluded. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“My father wanted us to be friends. It was his dying wish.”

I didn’t want to think about the way Omar had looked in those last few months. Frail, emaciated. The cancer had been aggressive, killing him only four months after his initial diagnosis. “Your father was a good man. An honest one. That can’t be said of you. The past is over and done with, and so is this conversation.”

Something flickered in Kade’s eyes. His charismatic mask slipped momentarily, revealing anger that was startling in its intensity.

“Well, I want something to do with you.”

I stood, frustration coiling at the back of my neck. “Go back to your mansion, Kade. Go back to whoring and gambling and whatever the fuck else you get up to these days. It’s not my business.”

“It is, actually. And it’s business I want to discuss.”

This time, I did react. With cold laughter. I walked over to the door, opening it with a shake of my head. “Let me be clear, getting into business together is a pipe dream. Now, if you don’t get the hell out, I’ll kick you out myself.”

Kade crossed the room, his arrogant swagger in full swing. He paused at the door, and it was the first time I noticed the exhaustion that seemed to haunt his face. The years of licentiousness seemed to have hardened him. Rumor had it that the man hadn’t stopped partying. And from the smell of him, Kade hadn’t limited the alcohol to evenings.

“You’re missing out on a good deal, here. But then again, maybe you’ve gone soft in your old age.”

Old age my ass. The guy was only three years younger than me but seemed to never tire of pointing out our differences.

I watched him go, gripping the handle. Only when he was out of sight did I walk back to my desk.

Why the fuck was Kade coming to see me now? I stood at the window, looking out over the city skyline, but I couldn’t appreciate the view. The promise I’d made to Omar on his death bed pricked at my conscience.