Page 23 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

“This isn’t about money, Haze.”

“Do you know how much I’m worth?” I stare at Jagger with a firm face. “This means leaving this company to run without me for an infinite amount of time. Possibly having to cancel some endorsements. That’s a loss of massive income, right there.”

“We can hire another rhythm guitarist. Eden was good with a guitar, and we don’t need a third person for vocals anyway,” Callum expresses his fuckery, and I watch the other two contemplate what he says.

“Fuck’s sake. You need me!” I say, not liking where this is going.

“Not when you’re going to own us,” Asher says, adding to their obvious gameplay. “I’d rather sell my flat. I can get a cool million for it in this seller’s market.”

“The café’s doing extremely well, and I’m sure Abby would get a loan to buy me out,” Jagger adds.

“I haven’t got much to add,” Callum interjects. “I blew most of my earnings on shit and blow years ago, and then there were the posh rehab bills, but I’m willing to do whatever extra legwork necessary to cut costs,” he says and winks at me, knowing that admitting his faults only makes me look like a bastard if I point them out.

“You’re as useless as the lettergin the word lasagna,” I mutter under my breath.

“Want to say that a bit louder, bruv?” He eyes me straight, “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

I sigh heavily and turn to Jagger.

“I have a business to run.”

“You have a competent business partner to manage your end who could hire a manager if need be,” Jagger explains. “I said the same excuses to Abby, and she shut me down fast.”

The air hangs heavy with anticipation in this dimly lit conference room, bathed in the soft glow of a single overhead lamp. All six eyes are fixed on me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anxiety. I clasp my hands together, fingers intertwining in a subconscious struggle for resolution.

The three men exchange subtle glances, exchanging unspoken thoughts as they await my verdict.

Finally, taking a deep breath, I break the silence.

“I’ll privately finance everything, but I want thirty-five percent of gross earnings.”

“Twenty-five,” Jagger confirms. “We’re also leaving shit behind. We need to make this worthwhile for us too.”

“Fine, Twenty-five. I will use the name Haze in the music industry and manage Callum’s earnings. There’s no way I’m entering any venture and agreement with him and risking the fitness business.

I address him directly, “One sign of reckless behavior or substance abuse and you’re fired from the band. You know I’m good with my word. I’m just making sure you remain straight.”

“No fucking way, arsehole!”

I look directly at him. Years ago, there were so many things I wanted to say to him.

“You had the world on a string, but you couldn’t hold it together, so you fucked it up. I’m protecting my interests, which means ensuring you need to stay on the straight and narrow.”

His jaw twitches with irritation as he slowly swallows my words.

“Callum,” Asher says calmly. “As much as we believe you aren’t going back to your old ways, there will be temptations. Haze is only looking out for you. I believe he’s also good on his word.”

This isn’t about hating my brother or having one over him. I walked away from my responsibilities years ago, leaving him to sort himself out. This time, I need to keep my eye out for him. He’s an arsehole, but he’s also my younger and only sibling. Deep down, that guilt I have for walking away will eat at me if I don’t look out for him this time.

“So you want me to submit to a conservatorship?”

“Yes.”

His eyebrows knit together, creating a deep furrowed brow.

“Sod it, minging arsehole.”

I watch my brother get up and storm out.

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