Page 52 of A Sip of Sherry

I stood and straightened, and Ben followed, still holding my hand.“I have to tell Chardonnay and Franc and Wyatt.This needs to be documented.Something isn’t right.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Ben said.“You need to focus on your event.I got this.Trust me.”

He said it as if it were easy.As if I hadn’t already, and he hadn’t completely disappointed me.“I wish I could,” I said, and headed out of the barn, leaving him to clean the shattered mess.

Chapter 17

Ben

It didn’t take a genius to know those bottles didn’t fall off the damn shelf.It was plain and simple sabotage, and I knew exactly who did it.Once the bottles were cleaned up and I spoke with Chardonnay, Franc, Laurent, and Wyatt, I jumped in my car and headed into enemy territory.

My father stayed in California most of the time, but if Mario and Stanley were at my place just yesterday, that meant the old man wasn’t far.There was only one place he could be.

Twenty minutes later, I cut the wheel down the long driveway that led to my parents’ place they called their ski house.As if either of them skied.Besides, they had houses in Aspen and Switzerland, places that actually made sense for skiing.This place?It was all for show.He was just trying to impress a community that he wanted to weasel his way into so he could profit off a legacy that had already been built.

This mansion settled into the base of a mountain, complete with oversized windows, stone pillars, and a wraparound deck that was cold and sterile just like them.

I parked next to the black Cadillac and killed the engine, surprised Mario or Stanley hadn’t already descended to greet me.Dad knew I was here.He had cameras all over the place.

Without as much of an inhale, I hopped from the car and stormed up the steps.My hand hovered to knock, but before it made contact with the wood, it flew open.Stanley stood there with a too smug smile on his overly squared face.

“He’s in the study,” he said.

Normally, I’d throw a joke at Stanley to cut the tension, but I wasn’t in a joking mood.I walked down the long hallway, filled with expensive artwork and furniture that looked straight out of a museum, and headed for my father’s office.

The familiar scent of leather and Dad’s overpriced cologne smacked me in the sinuses.He stood, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window, smoke from the cigar in his hand swirling above him.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” he said with a hint of a laugh in his tone.

The bastard knew what he did.

I had thought I covered up my feelings for Sherry, but he saw right through me.I wasn’t getting results for him, so he took matters into his own hands.

Dad sat in the oversized leather desk chair—the king on his throne.He poured a glass of whiskey and took it in hand, leaning back as if this was a friendly meeting.

“You look like shit,” he said.

I didn’t take the bait.“Breaking bottles?Sabotage?That seems a little beneath you.”

His brow arched, and the corner of his mouth slightly twitched.“You’ll have to be more specific.I’m not sure what you’re rambling on about, son.”

“Don’t play games with me,” I said.“You sent someone to break rare bottles of wine.”

He sipped his whiskey deliberately, letting the tension grow between us.“If someone wanted to test the stability of your girlfriend’s business, I wouldn’t call that sabotage.I’d call it good strategy.”

“She has nothing to do with this.”

He placed his glass down and met my gaze.I hated how similar his eyes were to mine.Hated how all I ever wanted was warmth and love to radiate back to me, but instead, I got disappointment.“She haseverythingto do with this.She’s your weakness, dear son.You know how I love to find a weakness.Get me dirt on them, or your little girlfriend will be sorry she ever met you.”

Pain bit into my palms as my nails dug deep.He wanted me to lose it.To lash out.To prove he could control me.But I was done playing his fucking games.

“I am not your soldier or your puppet.”

His expression didn’t flicker, not surprised.The man wasn’t capable of emotion.The leather of his chair creaked as he leaned back.“You never were which is why you failed so epically when you tried to do something without me.So take that as your lesson.You need me, whether you want to admit it or not.You also owe me, and don’t for a second think that just because you’re my son, I won’t do everything in my power to get what’s mine.Do what you fucking came here to do, and I’ll leave your little girlfriend alone.Don’t, and watch as she becomes collateral damage.”

The silence between us hung heavy with everything I wanted to say but knew wouldn’t fucking matter.Not to the man who only ever saw people as leverage and love as a weakness.It’s why I’d gone my entire life never hearing the wordsI love youfrom my father’s mouth.If he loved me, I became a liability, and my father did not do liabilities.

I could stick to the plan—drag it out and hope to hell he didn’t retaliate.Or I could tell him to fuck off for good and hope I was strong enough to weather whatever storm that churned up.

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