Page 142 of Scandalous

I fold my arms. “I don’t like that. You should do more about it. Besides, that’s my ass. Liam’s the only one allowed to touch it.”

He laughs, pulling me into his side. “All right, slugger. Let’s not get into a fight over it. I’ll handle it better next time. Can we go home now?”

I sigh. “Fine. Next time, I’m shanking a bitch though.”

“Duly noted.”

* * *

My phone rings as I step into the bedroom we have set up as an office. Pulling it out of my pocket, I’m instantly filled with dread as I see the caller.

“Better answer that before it goes to voice mail,” Ezra says from his seat on the other side of the desk.

The phone stops ringing, and I let out a breath of relief.

Ezra tosses his pen onto the desk as he stares at me. “I’m guessing that wasn’t a telemarketer.”

I scoff as I take a seat. “Try daddy dearest.”

The phone starts ringing again, and I tip my head back.

Mother. Fucker.

“Put it on speakerphone,” Ezra demands.

I accept the call and do as he said. “Yeah?” I ask as I toss the phone onto the desk.

“Is that how you’re supposed to answer the phone?” my father sneers.

“Hello,” I say emotionlessly. “How can I help you today?”

“Will you be in Vegas in a month?”

I look back at Ezra and see him frowning. “I will.”

“I need you to stop by my office and sign some papers.”

“Papers for what?”

“I had papers drawn up to buy your shares.”

“My shares of what?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

My great-grandfather started an oil company and it blew up, setting the rest of us up for life. While my father is now the CEO, all of us firstborn sons were given three shares when we were born. Then when the patriarch dies, they are split between us.

Ezra waves his hand, getting my attention. He holds up a piece of paper that says, absolutely not.

“The shares of the business,” my father snaps. “Have you done so many drugs you’ve forgotten?”

“No, Dad.” I say his name condescendingly. “And as I’ve told you, I have no desire to sell you my shares. They are mine.”

“You’ve done nothing to earn those shares,” he hisses. “You’ve been nothing but a mistake.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, and while I might not put on a suit and tie and go into the office, I do keep up to date on everything going on in that building.”

“How much will it take for you to give them up?”

“I don’t think there is a number that will ever make me do that,” I tell him honestly.

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