Page 104 of Cannon
“Then we discuss other options,” he replied, his voice cold enough to make me believe him. “But not before we’ve exhausted every legitimate avenue. I didn’t pull strings to get you out just to watch you throw your life away on revenge.”
Maurice cleared his throat. “If I might interject, Mr. Price. From a legal standpoint, any contact with your sister, even through a third party, could be catastrophic for your case. Complete separation is your only option right now.”
I leaned back against the seat, tension coiled in every muscle. “How did you know what I was thinking?” I asked Creed, not ready to let it go.
A small smile touched his lips. “Because you and Riot make the exact same face when you’re plotting against someone. That muscle in your jaw twitches. Your eyes get this distant look, like you’re seeing something that isn’t there yet. It’s uncanny, actually.”
I didn’t like that. Didn’t like being compared to him, didn’t like being that transparent, and especially didn’t like the implication that blood ran deeper than I wanted to admit.
“We’ll be at the office in ten,” Creed continued, oblivious to my discomfort or simply choosing to ignore it. “The transfer papers for your inheritance are ready. Twenty million dollars, as promised.”
Twenty million. The number still felt unreal, like Monopoly money. But I knew what it meant, freedom. Real freedom, not just the absence of bars but the presence of choices. And the first choice I was making was to never be at another person’s mercy again.
The SUV turned onto Park Avenue, the gleaming skyscrapers reflecting the morning sun like they were made of pure gold. Somewhere in this city, Reese was plotting her next move. Somewhere, Queen was waiting for my call. And somewhere, my future was taking shape, finally mine to control.
All I had to do was keep my head, follow Creed’s advice, and not let the rage inside me burn everything down before I had a chance to build it up.
Easier said than done.
The elevator doors slid open to the top floor of King Tower. I stepped out behind Creed, my eyes taking in the sleek, modern space that screamed money and power. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of Manhattan that made the city look like a toy model. It was something you could reach out and control with your fingertips.
Waiting for us in the conference room was Riot, leaning back in a leather chair with his feet propped on the glass table. When he saw me, he stood up, something like respect flickering in his eyes.
“Welcome to the family business,” he said, extending his hand.
I hesitated for just a second before taking it, our grip firm as we dapped each other up. Strange how not too long ago we’d been trying to break each other’s jaws, and now here we were, playing at brotherhood.
“Have a seat,” Creed gestured to the chair at the head of the table. A stack of documents sat waiting, the King Industries logo embossed in gold on the top page.
Maurice pulled out a pen that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe and handed it to me. “Everything is in order, Mr. Price. The full twenty million transferred to your account upon signature.”
My hand hovered over the paper. This was it. The moment I officially became worth something in the eyes of the world. I scrawled my signature across the designated lines, each stroke of the pen feeling like I was writing a new chapter of my life.
“Congratulations,” Creed said as I signed the final page. “You’re now a very wealthy man.”
“There’s something else we want to discuss,” Riot added, exchanging a look with his brother. “We’ve been talking, and we want to offer you a seat on the board of King Industries and Logistics.”
I looked up sharply. “A seat on the board? Why?”
“Blood is blood,” Creed replied simply. “King Industries has always been a family business. And whatever happened in the past, you’re family.”
“Plus,” Riot added with a smirk, “we could use someone with your… particular skill set. You see things differently than we do. Street level. That’s valuable.”
I leaned back, studying their faces for any sign of deception. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Creed assured me. “Just an opportunity to build something of your own under the King umbrella. What kind of business interests you?”
The question caught me off guard. I’d never thought beyond survival before, never had the luxury of dreaming about what I might build. But instantly, Queen’s words from the night Jupiter died came flooding back, her quiet confession about wanting to escape to a peaceful place upstate.
“A bed and breakfast,” I said before I could stop myself. “Upstate. Something quiet, away from the city.”
Riot’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, then a slow grin spread across his face. “A bed and breakfast? Seriously?”
“That’s… unexpected,” Creed admitted, but he was already nodding thoughtfully. “Actually, we’ve been looking to diversify into hospitality. Riot’s winery has been exceeding projections. A high-end B&B could be the perfect complementary business.”
“We could package it with the winery,” Riot mused, warming to the idea. “Weekend getaways, wine tastings, the whole bougie experience these rich folks eat up.”
I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable with how quickly they’d latched onto the idea, something I’d only mentioned because of Queen. “Look, the money’s enough for now. I appreciate the offer, but I need to figure some shit out first.”
