He thought we were both weak, even though we’d proved him otherwise over the years. In his eyes, we would always be the scared little boys sent to live with him.
I handed my grandfather the folder.
He took it with a smirk tipping up the right corner of his mouth. “Drink?”
“Sure.”
He tilted his head to the bar. “I’ll have a Macallan neat.”
I wanted to choke the smug bastard to death. Teeth gritted, I rose from the couch while he flipped through the pages in the folder. The documentation looked legit. The three of us would sign on the dotted lines and celebrate the transaction, and then it was time for the next part of our plan.
After my grandfather learned about my relationship with Alex, he tried to strong-arm Damian and me into giving him a larger percentage of Atlantic Airlines.
We both refused.
I stopped taking his calls, but he controlled most of our board members and threatened to have me removed as CEO. One of the many downfalls of running a publicly traded company.
Fitzy owned a minority stake in Atlantic Airlines. My mother used a portion of her trust fund to bankroll the first few years of operating costs. So he demanded he get his fair share.
I poured our drinks and handed a glass to Damian. He swallowed the contents in one gulp and slammed it down on the table.
That caught Fitzy’s attention.
His head snapped to Damian, his eyes narrowed. My brother gave him a challenging look that said,I dare you to say something, motherfucker.
I thought my grandfather would say some smart ass shit just to piss Damian off, but he was too pleased with the shareholder paperwork to fuck with him.
The prick thought he won.
He stuffed the signed papers back into the folder and set his drink on top of it. “I think we’re done here, boys.”
“Not quite.” I gulped down half of the scotch and resumed my place beside Damian. “We have something else to discuss.” Leaning forward, I took another sip. “We know you hired Savanna Wellington to kidnap Alex.”
His mouth snapped shut, and then his expression turned to stone.
“Don’t deny it,” I added with venom in my tone. “That bitch wouldn’t stop flapping her jaw. She told us every single detail of your plan. Including the fact you wanted to sell Alex to Lorenzo Basile to get Carl Wellington’s black book.”
He snickered at my last comment.
“What do you have to hide?” I squeezed the glass in my hand. “What does Wellington have on you? What are you afraid of getting out?”
“Fine,” he hissed. “You want to know the truth?” He downed the last of his scotch and shot up from the couch to pour another glass. “I hired Savanna to take the girl.”
Anger seething through me, I followed him over to the bar. “Why?”
“For the book.” He fixed himself a drink and spun around. “Carl is holding something over my head.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned my back against the bar. “You could have gotten Alex killed. And for what? A fucking book?”
“It’s not just a book,” he snapped. “You don’t know the secrets Wellington has on us.”
I pointed a finger at my chest. “On me?”
“All of us,” he fired back. “Wellington has been trying to take my throne for years.” He sipped from the highball glass, his dark eyes fixed on me. “It is your birthright to one day be an Elder. You are an Adams. That name means something. And Wellington is threatening to take it from us.”
“Luca is marrying Alex. If we’d known you were going to kidnap and sell her to a Mafia boss, we would have given it to you.” I got so close to him our mouths were inches apart. “Why did you do it, old man?”
“Get out of my face.” He shoved my chest with his palm. “How dare you disrespect me in my home?”