“I can tell how much you love the music. That’s why you’re already using your little bit of fake fame to line up the groupies. Because it’s just about the music for you.” Simon’s mocking tone made me fist my hands at my sides. “Don’t bother trying to snow me, man. I’ve been where you are. I remember quite well. It was about getting up and getting out and stepping on whoever got in my way.”
I jerked a shoulder. “So? That’s what it takes to succeed. Do you expect me to apologize for it?”
“No. I expect you to understand I’m not some pussy who’ll stand by while you try to cash in on what I’ve created. If the name Kagan means anything now, it’s because of me. And you best believe I know how to fucking fight for what’s mine.”
With effort, I relaxed my jaw and smiled, slow and sure. “By all means.”
A beat passed while we held each other’s gaze. Then I gestured toward the door. “It’ll be daylight soon, and your little missus must be looking for you.”
“Don’t you dare even refer to her.”
“Or what? You’ll toss more money and threats at me for using the name I was born with? That’s mine every bit as much as yours?” I ran my tongue along the inside of my lower lip and tasted blood there…and fear. “Pity all your stocks and bonds can’t take that away from me too, isn’t it?”
Simon picked up the paper and ripped into pieces, tossing aside the shredded scraps.
I managed to laugh. “Luckily, I anticipated that and gave you my copy. Not the original. You won’t have access to that. Can’t risk losing it due to one of your little temper tantrums.”
Simon stalked to the door. “This isn’t over.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
Limping a little, I aimed for the angled windows that let so much light into the flat. Ignoring the stitch in my side, I pressed my palms to the glass and drew in deep breaths until the rapid thud of my heartbeat began to slow.
The scents of the city—sickly sweet flowers layered with the stench of the alley nearby—settled me. Reminded me of what I was doing.
And why.
How I had no bloody choice, unless I wanted to live and die in this hellhole.
Simon wasn’t going to back off. He also wouldn’t pave the road ahead of me with gold and glitter, that was for certain. The likelihood he would throw up roadblocks in my path was high. Simon had connections. He knew far more people in the music business than I could fathom.
If he wanted to, Simon could probably snuff out my career before it had even truly begun.
The anger and vitriol on Simon’s side had been unexpected. I’d known my older brother wouldn’t be happy about my existence. Why should he be? He clearly saw me as an interloper, a usurper to his rock god throne. A threat.
What I hadn’t anticipated was Simon seeming to hate my very existence even beyond the music. That I dared to breathe the same air.
Shared the same stingy sliver of familial pie.
It would be easier to believe it was simply because Simon had branded me a liar. But he’d seen the proof with his own eyes. Unless he figured I had forged that too. Forged the paperwork, forged the face and the voice so much like Simon’s own.
Conjured the same bitterness that lived in Simon out of thin air.
They had warned me it would be like this. He might share a bloodline, but he would never see me as family. So why not do exactly what he expected of me?
It wouldn’t be easy. But I wasn’t giving up.
I rolled my shoulders and stepped back from the window, staring at the handprints I’d left behind in the condensation on the glass.
My mobile phone chirped from my pocket. Another time of reckoning was at hand.
I pulled it out and lifted it to my ear without looking at the readout. I knew who it was.
“You saw the telly,” I said flatly.
“You know that’s not what we expected from you.”
“Maybe not, but it got him over here, so good enough.” I couldn’t keep the defensiveness out of my tone.