Page 58 of Bad Boss

I choose to omit the fact that Alexander was a willing accomplice in his latest plot. At least until he came to the same realization I had long ago—Adrian Riley cares for no one but Adrian Riley.

“Ah…” Riley nods and runs a thumb along his chin. “And Evelyn King? Are even past employees protected under this umbrella of yours?”

Confirming or denying her firing wouldn’t make any damn bit of difference. So, I say nothing.

Riley smirks regardless, but he seems to leave that line of attack alone—for now. “I suppose this is when I lay out my own demands…” He opens a drawer and withdraws a leather-bound book which he places down between us. “For starters, two forms of leadership is simply not feasible—”

“And I assume you have the perfect solution,” I interject.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He flips open the book, revealing a list of what seems to be names. “One of the prized features of the club that we promote is unity. Few decisions are made without the input of both our membersandclients.”

Apparently, the book is some sort of membership manifesto. “And?”

“I don’t see why this matter should be handled any differently.”

I frown, glancing over the ledger. “Explain.”

“Why not let those who make up the club decide the direction of leadership? The membership bodies of both clubs will be consulted. Then we put it to a vote as to who should head both. Of course, the minor managing duties will belong to each respective owner, but—”

“Only one man can sit at the head of the table.” It’s what my father used to say before he and my mother divorced.You put two bulls in a pen, only one will truly be able to call it home.

“Something like that,” Riley says carefully.

It’s obviously a trap, designed to put into play one trait that Adrian Riley utilized to his benefit at every opportunity. Even Evelyn has mentioned as much, whether intentionally or not. He is a charming git, able to manipulate men and women alike to suit his own gain.

“And I am to believe that in a month, I can turn your loyal members to my side and win their votes?”

Riley laughs. “Therein lies thechallengingaspect of a challenge, Bellamy. They are, of course, more familiar with Alexander, but I’m sure you can turn on the old Bellamy charm. After all, you seem willing to go to any lengths to protect that precious family name.”

“Is that what this is about,” I say with a forced scoff. “Your lingering jealousy. My god, man. One would think that with your success, you’d get over a childish slight from two decades ago—”

“A slight?” Riley laughs, but there’s no mirth in it. His eyes narrow as the corners of his lips upturn, revealing a hint of perfectly-whitened teeth. Ah, there he is. The callous bastard I know and loathe. Gone is his perfect, charming mask. This is the true Adrian Riley, vengeful to his very core. “Is that what you call it when you, a pampered heir, born with a silver spoon in your mouth, withdraw all contact from your supposed friend without warning. A slight?”

“When that friend resorts to spreading vicious, nasty rumors, you can call it whatever you damn well please.”

“Rumors.” He laughs, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side. “About your father, you mean? Or should I sayourfather—”

“You can call yourself a bastard of whoever you like,” I say coldly. “Leave my family out of it.”

“Whatever you wish, Graeme,” Riley counters. “If you want sole ownership of the club, then those are my terms—”

“Deal.” I draw back from the desk without bothering to see his reaction. Smug satisfaction? Shock? Confusion? “But on one condition. You leave anyone not directly tied to the club out of it, meaning none of your usual tricks. No blackmail. No silly mind games. No extortion. That goes for my business, my family, my—”

“The spouses and other immediate family members of clients and patrons alike are off limits. Your business has no bearing on our negations over the club either. However…”

I glance over my shoulder to meet his gaze directly, finding nothing in his eyes but sheer amusement. “However, what?”

“However, anyone else, notcurrentlyassociated with either your family or your corporation is, as they say, fair game.” He makes a show of cracking his knuckles before steepling them before him. “For instance, if an old employee of yours were to join another company, or drunkenly converse about the quirks of her former boss in public… that would be quite the scandal, wouldn’t it? You’ve worked so hard to rehabilitate your family’s reputation, after all. I’d hate to see that effort amount to nothing.”

“Is that so?” My hands form into fists. The bloody, arrogant git.

“Of course.” He nods. “Though, when it comes to the club, I’ll gladly accept your challenge, Bellamy.” He even has the nerve to tilt his chin in my direction like a gesture of war. “I hope to see you there tonight.”

My teeth are gritted, my reply curt, “You can bet on it.”

I leave the bastard grinning beside his desk and head for the exit the moment I reach the lobby. It’s raining out, the icy droplets splattering everything within their reach. I can’t help but feel it’s an omen—even bloody nature is reinforcing Evelyn King’s own harsh assessment. Each drop of rain seems to hammer in that point—You don’t have a chance in hell.

But I’ve staked my existence on proving everyone else wrong before.

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