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Unprotected: A Secret Baby

Page 31

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What the hell was up with him? I stared hard but didn’t ask.

“Yeah,” I said smoothly, like nothing was wrong. “Raul treated us real nice. We found the perfect ring and Maggie loves it.”

Because my fiancée was getting that giant pink diamond for sure, and I couldn’t wait to see it on her finger.

“I’m one lucky bastard,” was my grunt, taking another sip of the bourbon. “It don’t get better than this.”

“Well, you’re no bastard and I have the marriage certificate to prove it.” Dad laughed long and loud at his own cheesy joke. Yeah, there was no way to dispute I was his. We don’t look much alike, but our personalities are uncannily similar. Hell, was being a chip off the old block good or bad? Probably both.

Those pale blue eyes narrowed speculatively now.

“I can tell you’re in love with that girl. Good for you. I figured she was special when you asked to bring her over. You never brought anyone home before.”

I shrugged. All those other women didn’t mean dick to me. Maggie on the other hand….

“Well I’m marrying this one. The other ones were whores who just wanted my money. You know how it goes.”

Henry grunted.

“I do, for sure. Before I met your mom, I was a man about town and there were hooches everywhere. Those were the good old days. Not that I don’t appreciate Evelyn,” he said hastily, “but wow, sometimes I wish I were forty years younger.”

He chuckled at his own joke and took a long guzzle of the gin and tonic.

But then Henry got serious, and I swear something was up. Because Dad’s devious. His moods turn on a dime, the old man mercurial like quicksilver.

Maybe I’d forgotten who I was up against. Henry Lincoln built a company from a scrappy start-up into an international powerhouse. There was no way to truly read him, he’s capable of using the sharpest steel or the softest velvet to get what he wants.

But I was smart enough to know that something was definitely off. Taking another sip of my drink, I waited, outwardly calm. But inside, my spidey sense tingled.

Dad examined me again, those cold blue eyes casual but cold. And why not? Sitting across the table, I was an opponent, not his son.

He put down his glass and pushed it a little ways, jaw tight before leaning onto the table and bracing his forearms against the edge. Wasn’t there a recent TED talk about power postures? Was that what he was doing?

Sure enough, the bomb dropped.

“Evan, you’ll never get control of Lincoln Conglomerate,” the words slipped out casually, like he was saying good morning. “I’ve decided to stay on as CEO for the foreseeable future.”

Shit!

What the hell?

You motherfucker! Betrayal, hot and bitter, filled my mouth. But I could tell my father had more to say. Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to sit through whatever bullshit was coming my way.

“The company is mine,” my father went on to say. “Completely. I’ll keep control of it until I die because that’s how I want it to be.”

He leaned back. And this is sad, but malice flickered in his eyes as well as jealousy too. Why was he jealous of me, his own son? My thoughts whirled.

Henry continued, voice smug.

“In case I’m not being clear, listen to this and listen well. You’ll NEVER be CEO of Lincoln Conglomerate as long as I draw breath.”

What the hell?

Where was this coming from?

I’ve slaved long and hard for the company, working my fingers to the bone. I’ve done nothing in forty-five years but give my life to this company. And now he was throwing my dreams on the floor, trashing them like they were worth shit?

What the hell?

But it was true.

My dad’s eyes were like glaciers, cold and dead. Who the fuck was this guy and where was this coming from?

He continued then.

“The clause about you getting married before becoming CEO was a lie,” he rumbled casually. “I pulled it out of my ass because I figured you’d never do it, what with the hooches you hung out with. But now that you’re getting your shit together, I’m pulling that offer completely off the table.”

I rose to my feet at that last slap in the face. My hip bumped the table, tipping the whiskey so that it spilled across the pristine tablecloth. But Henry didn’t so much as flinch.

I was furious. Anger roared through me like wildfire.

“This is the shit you do to your only fucking son?” I shouted, ignoring the looks of other guests. “The one who made the company stock go through the roof after years of shitty profits?”

“You didn’t do anything I couldn’t do myself,” my dad said coldly.

He was fucking deluded. Henry was an old school guy, one out of touch with the modern world. He had all the latest gadgets but that meant nothing. The man knew jack shit about digital advertising, millennials, and the green revolution.



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