Page 52 of How To Tempt The Off-Limits Billionaire

And that was why he ended it with Ro.

Keane rested his elbows on the table and pushed his hands into his hair. “Jesus, Triple M, I wastryingto protect you. I always felt that, under her smiles, my mom didn’t like you—”

Like...Such a small word for what she put him through.

“But her hatred of you bubbled over when we left university and joined Clos du Cadieux. And it went through the roof when Mimi appointed you as CEO.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” Muzi pointed out.

“She told me to choose between her and you,” Keane told him, his shoulders rising in agitation. “Honestly, I would’ve chosen you. But Susan is a basket case and, with Rafe leaving, I knew that if I sided with you, there would be no one to curtail her worst impulses. When Mimi retired, she told the family that she didn’t want to hear of any squabbling at Clos du Cadieux. I am the only one who can talk sense into Susan, to make her consider her actions. I sided with her to protect you!”

“I don’t need protecting!” Muzi said, his voice rising.

“From Susan you do,” Keane insisted. “She hates you—she always has. Looking back, I think I’ve only just realized how much.”

Muzi didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to acknowledge the guilt and sorrow in his brother’s eyes. The past couldn’t be changed.

“So, you detonated our friendship to protect me?” Muzi scoffed.

Keane looked him in the eye. “Yeah, I did. Susan has had some wild schemes over the years concerning you but I, mostly, managed to deflect her.”

“So why are you telling me this now?” Muzi demanded. “Why are you here?”

“Because when I get a message telling me that your life is falling apart and that Pas has never seen you so defeated, I will always come running,” Keane told him, his voice strong and sure. “My mother is mad but you,youare my brother.”

Muzi felt the prickle of tears at his sincerity, still trying to wrap his head around what he was hearing. “You could’ve come to me and told me what you were doing, Keane. Losing you...” He couldn’t continue, it hurt too much.

Keane placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know, I’m sorry. It was just supposed to be for a few months, but the gap I created just kept getting wider and wider until I didn’t know how to bridge it. Can you forgive me, Triple M? Iamdamn sorry.”

Before they got to that point, there was something else Keane should know. “I’m going to bury your mother tomorrow at the board meeting.”

Keane’s expression remained inscrutable, but curiosity jumped into his eyes. “How?” he asked, his tone careful.

Muzi, knowing that he was taking the risk that Keane would take what he was about to say straight to Susan, explained his plan and Keane nodded. Muzi held his breath, waiting for his response. “I think that’s a perfect plan. The board will vote to keep you.”

“You think?”

Keane nodded. “Trust me, there have been rumblings for a while that Susan’s animosity toward you is hindering rather than helping the situation. I have been asked to persuade her to retire.”

Muzi felt one of the many boulders sitting on his chest roll away.

“The board, and I, will all vote for you,” Keane told him. He lifted his glass of whiskey, sipped, and Muzi saw regret and fear roll across his face. “I messed up, and I’m tired of being on the outside of your life. Can we...is there any chance...”

His words trailed off but Muzi knew what he was asking. Could they go back? Could they try again? Could they repair their relationship? It would take time, effort but...yeah. He thought they could. Because he did, somewhere where truth resided, believe that Keane had been trying to look after his best interests.

He nodded and held out his hand for Keane to shake. Keane took it a step further by pulling him into a one-armed hug.

“Cut it out, you’re acting like two overly emotional teenage girls!” Pasco broke the soppy moment with his sarcastic quip but Muzi could see that he was pleased. As was Digby.

Muzi raised his bottle, thinking he needed something stronger. “Can I have something with alcohol in it?” he asked Pasco.

“Hell, no,” Pasco told him, pulling the whiskey bottle out of his reach. “You still have work to do, my friend.”

Muzi lifted his hands, confused. “What work?”

“My sister,” Digby stated, his tone hard.

Ah, crap. He might’ve regained one friend, but, judging by Digby’s face, he might be losing another. He looked for something to say, found nothing and opted to keep his mouth shut.

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