Page 58 of Ruthless Wars

I know what I want. My life’s goal has influenced every business relationship I’ve had, and then some. I’ve raised and poured more money into this deal than I thought I’d ever see in a lifetime—ten lifetimes. It’s no shock that everything has a price.

But using Margot to leverage his point?

Too bad for him. I’m taking both.

“I guess you missed the memo,” I say slowly, staring him down. “I already own a controlling interest in Steele Holdings, and nearly a dozen other subsidiaries that once held the stain of Long Multinational. With them, a seat on your board is in the bag. I don’t need a Mother, may I to take what I want. And that includes Margot.”

“Those businesses don’t interest me, Liam—”

“Coop,” I say quickly, correcting him for no other reason than habit.

Everett blinks at me, easing back in his chair and taking the water with him. He nods with a certain air of understanding before uncapping it and taking a sip. “Your dad turned you against that name. Too bad. Lily loved it.”

His words are solemn and filled with regret, a reminder that despite the bad business dealings with my dad, he has some strange connection to my mom. One she never mentioned. Maybe that’s for the best.

“Coop,” Everett says, correcting himself as he seems to be collecting his thoughts. “Like I said, the businesses are yours to take. They always were.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, not that I need your permission.”

“Goddammit, Coop!” Everett lashes out, losing his cool and slamming his palm on my desk. “I’m trying to get through to you, and you’re making it harder than hunting through a briar patch!” Glaring at the plastic bottle distastefully, he shoves a hand through his hair. “Can you at least spare an old man a real goddamn drink?”

“Sure,” I say, pulling a bottle of Four Roses from the cabinet behind me and giving two crystal lowballs a good strong pour.

That’s me, classing it up for the guy. I know from the last time I saw him that drinks should be off-limits, but the man’s obviously full grown.

“Your funeral,” I say, handing him what has to be three fingers worth.

He loses his stare in the glass before taking a healthy gulp. I do the same because I’m in no rush to bury the man. I’d much rather take my time so I can truly enjoy every second of this victory.

“Scott Byrne was a mean drunk,” Everett says, disdain lacing his words as he sits and stares thoughtfully into his glass.

The man’s words are like an ice pick to the heart. The pain takes a minute to catch up with me, but when it does, I can’t breathe.

The stare Everett and I exchange is pained.

His words were a blow I never saw coming, and they rip whatever power I was holding right out of my hands. All the sins my father was capable of ... have been hidden. Guarded. Buried so deep, no one would ever find the traces.

Blankly, I sit and listen.

“You have to know I tried, Coop. I did things I didn’t think I was capable of doing.”

Losing himself in a faraway gaze, Everett pauses, giving me the opening and the strength to fight fire with fire.

“Like stealing the lifeline of his existence, his company? Is that how you tried? Forcing his back against the wall so his only relief was booze and whatever nearest punching bag suited him, like his wife?” And kids, I admit to myself, but this bastard doesn’t need to know that.

The blood drains from Everett’s face. “Is that what you think? That I stole Steele Holdings?”

“Every once in a while, when good old Dad was really drunk, he used to say when Everett Long couldn’t take his woman, he took his company.”

Everett glares at me. “That sure as shit’s not true.”

Somehow, the adamant insistence of his voice makes me believe him. But there’s something below the surface, something he’s not saying, and it feels like it’s right in front of me.

“You need to know the truth,” Everett says with a resigned sigh. “All of it. To understand I didn’t take Steele Holdings from Scott Byrne. I bought it from him.”

“The same way I bought it back from you?” I meet his seriousness with a smile that’s pure smartass.

“Not exactly.” After taking another sip, Everett says, “Scott offered it to me. At twice its value.”

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