Page 236 of Five Brothers

I will see him, though. He’s not done yet, and I’m satisfied with that. I can be satisfied with that.

But I still feel like my insides are bleeding.

I draw in a breath, hear the door close, and look at my father. “Are you going to raise the kids?” I ask him. “You and your girlfriend?”

He lifts his chin, his discomfort at discussing this in front of his colleagues evident. But we don’t have to discuss anything.

“They stay with me,” I tell him, taking out the check from a pack I found in his desk. “Say yes.”

“We need to talk.”

“We will.” I set the check, already made out, on the table. “Say yes.”

He inhales and exhales three times, and then nods once, barely.He might be willing to go the distance with me and Paisleigh after he’s remarried and has set up house properly, but he doesn’t believe Mars is his, and it doesn’t matter, because I’m not discussing it. We’re a package deal.

I slide the check over to him. “And pay her off.”

He drops his eyes to the check, taking in the sizable but fair amount I wrote out. She won’t acquiesce for anything less.

“I left her the house to sell,” he says.

“You mean the home where your children live?” I fire back. “Fuck you.”

Garrett Ames chuckles and then takes a sip of his scotch.

“Krisjen, what has gotten into you?” my father growls in a near whisper.

He’s embarrassed.

I don’t retreat. “Take out your Montblanc,” I order him.

Take out your fucking pen and sign it and this is done. He’ll be free. He doesn’t break eye contact until he has his pen out and starts signing it.

He pushes it back over to me, and I take out my phone, log into my bank account, and scan the check, immediately depositing it.

I put both the check and my phone away. “If it doesn’t clear, the next check will be bigger.”

His jaw flexes, but he keeps his mouth shut, slipping his pen back into his breast pocket.

“Have your lawyer draw up the papers,” I tell him. “Bring them when you come to see your kids next Saturday. I’ll make sure she signs them quickly.”

“Krisjen.”

“Please leave,” I say.

And I lift my eyes to the wall behind him, done dealing with him tonight. Two down, one more to go.

Buttoning his suit jacket, he walks out, slamming the door behind him.

Jerome tsks. “Not as sweet as I thought.”

I cock my head. “Y’all are handfuls.”

He laughs, but I don’t.

“So why the change of heart?” he asks.

“Well, I’m not going to college.”