Kasen seemed to garner great joy out of reminding me of the bogeyman reputation I’d developed after I’d taken over my grandfather’s position in Drakos Shipping.
I’d followed in Pappous’s footsteps and created fear in those who’d thought I was too weak to hold my family’s organization together. I’d made it a point to take back everything stolen from my family and then some.
“Seriously, what’s the big deal with seeing where things go?”
“Touching her is the last thing I should do. The consequences are too great.”
“The worst consequences would be that you’re married to a smoking-hot and smart woman, and the Mykoses go from rivals to allies.”
Ignoring his words, I moved out of the elevator and into the hallway leading directly to my suite.
“You know I’m right.”
Shooting Kasen a glare, I moved straight to a stocked bar. “The woman I’ll marry isn’t going to have a rep, as you put it, of any kind. I need someone who understands what’s expected of her, not a hellion giving me trouble at every turn.”
“You mean someone you can manage, like Santos’s daughter. She won’t give you any problems. She’ll keep her opinions to herself, stay hidden away, and only come out for events as long as you let her stay busy spending your money.”
When he put it that way, I sounded like a right bastard.
Then again, it wasn’t as if Camilla Santos wasn’t aware of the life she’d live. She liked the money and influence as much as the next woman.
Well, maybe not Nyx Mykos.
An image of her dark eyes flashed in my mind, of her kneeling before me, of her mouth wrapped around my cock.
Fuck.
I clenched my teeth. I had to get it together. Of all the women in the world to have an immediate physical reaction to, it had to be her. Even Wes Santos’s daughter, a well-known beauty, never gave me visions of fucking her senseless with barely one interaction.
I poured two fingers of scotch into a tumbler, picked up the glass, and shot back the potent liquid, letting the alcohol burn down my throat.
“It’s too late to take our dear Uncle Albert out. If you’d done it ten years ago, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
Kasen’s emphasis on the “uncle” part had me shaking my head. We never called him uncle. Fucker, bastard, dickhead, and waste of space, yes. But not uncle.
“He’ll get his, sooner or later.”
Albert was the second spare, as Pappous had called him, and because of this designation, he carried a perpetual chip on his shoulder. He wanted what his older brothers had but without putting in the effort. I’d seen it as a child and saw it in full force when he tried to pull rank after I’d taken over the family. Too bad age had nothing to do with succession of the family.
I’d learned the business the hard way, not by playing errand boy or living off the profits.
The fucker had no idea I knew all about his involvement in the helicopter crash that killed Pappous. Though the intended target had never made the flight.
Me.
It was Pappous’s need to control every contract negotiation that had him replacing me on the flight that day.
Now here I was, dealing with more of Albert’s bullshit.
Up until a few months ago, I’d never bothered worrying about the archaic contract my great-grandfather had concocted. No one in the modern era expected anyone to honor a deal made in Greece over a hundred years ago.
Then Albert decided he wanted more of the Drakos pie and pushed the family elders to enforce the Mykos-Drakos agreement.
Maybe Kasen was right. I should have killed the backstabbing bastard when I’d had the chance a decade ago.
“Your only option is to stick it out for the next year and deal with the consequences.”
“There aren’t going to be any consequences.”