Page 9 of The Darkest Knight

The penthouse is quiet when I arrive, the massive space dimly lit and pristine, like always. The housekeeper lets me in, guiding me into the dining room, her polite nod betraying no emotion.

This place—my father’s home—feels like a museum. Cold, elegant, and utterly devoid of warmth.

I pour myself a whiskey and sit on one of the sleek leather couches. It doesn’t take long for the others to arrive.

Dex is the first, striding in with his usual confidence, his tailored suit immaculate. He should wear it more, though he seems to be more comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt. But this is a family dinner night and no one turns up casually dressed. He’s smooth, sharp, and magnetic, the kind of guy who makes heads turn when he enters a room.

“Jett,” he says, pouring himself a drink.

“Dex.”

Zach is next, arriving with Rio and Matteo—the older two of the Italian Knights. Seeing them together still feels strange, even now. We didn't know about them until we were into our teens, when a whole new family was introduced to us.

We've never even seen their mother, but they have one. They have something we don't, and I envy them.

Rio is charming and easygoing, always quick with a joke. Matteo? Not so much. He’s tense, his dislike for the rest of us written all over his face. Enzo is oddly missing.

“Nice timing,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

Zach smirks, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What can I say? We bumped into each other downstairs.”

“And Enzo?” I ask.

“Away on business,” Rio says with a shrug.

We pour drinks, and the room fills with the usual tension. It’s like we’re all waiting for my father to make his entrance, the air charged with unspoken grievances and carefully hidden resentments.

When he finally appears, it’s with his usual flair—a commanding presence in a tailored suit, his silver hair perfectly combed, and cold grey eyes. Paul Knight doesn’t walk; heownsevery room he steps into.

“Gentlemen.” His voice is smooth and authoritative. “Let’s sit.”

“No time for pleasantries?” Dex asks. “Are we cutting straight to the business part of the evening?”

“Jett wants to give us on update on the merger with Vanhelm. It might take a while.”

My father moves to the dining table, an expansive piece of polished wood that feels more like a boardroom than a place to share a meal. The table is set with precision, every detail flawless. He takes his seat at the head of the table, and I can tell from that comment that he’s already prepared for a fight. He doesn’t like what I’ll be proposing. The fossil fuel man.

We join him at the table.

“These are the latest projections and the most recent contract revisions,” I say, handing out the packets of information that Cari prepared. “Look through them and let me have your thoughts. I see no reason why this won’t go ahead.This is a great deal for us. Vanhelm are highly selective about partnerships and—”

“You should have outright acquired it. You’re showing weakness by merging. We’re a global powerhouse—”

“You and I differ. I choose collaboration over dominance.”

My father snorts.

“Vanhelm Enterprises isn’t just any company. It’s a trailblazer in its niche, with cutting-edge technology, proprietary research and exclusive government contracts. This makes them a highly desirable partner, not a target for acquisit—”

“You’re making a mistake. You look weak,” my father cuts in.

“Give him a chance.” Dex looks pissed.

I take a few calming breaths. "Just because a shark can swallow a dolphin whole doesn’t mean it should. Sometimes, the smart play is to swim alongside it and hunt together." I look him squarely in the eye before continuing. “I am proud that this is going ahead, and I expect it to be completed by early Jan. It would have wrapped up sooner but with Christmas on the way, it’ll be tight.”

My father swirls the whiskey around in his glass. “Renewable energy is a fad.”

I clench my teeth. “So you keep saying. This deal, when finalized, will be highly lucrative for both parties.”

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