Chapter 23

23

C av glanced at his watch as he paced the length of the pool house's living space waiting for Wynter to return from the reading. His gut told him something was off, but perhaps that was simply his distaste for the whole affair. He didn't want his mate living off Warden Jaymes ever again, but he had to agree that Wynter deserved something for all the pain he'd endured. Couldn't that something be a happy ever after with Cav?

While he knew the truth now, all the same old doubts still lingered in his head, telling him that he'd not been worthy enough, rich enough, loved enough to be Wynter's alpha. Would there ever come a time when they could simply be together?

He sat back down on the overstuffed couch and grabbed the book he'd been reading—the one that detailed the Omega Rights Movement rising in Alexandria—and flipped to where he'd left off. The book should've been fascinating, especially considering he knew two of the folks who'd soon be featured, but he couldn't seem to get past a few pages before rereading the same chapter over and over again. Fortunately, Wynter arrived to end his torment.

Cav tossed the book on the coffee table and rose, eyeing his tight-lipped mate. Wynter forced a smile and shut the door.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Wynter said. He lumbered closer and wrapped his arms around Cav's waist and leaned in tight.

Cav embraced his mate, leaning his head down and inhaling Wynter's clean scent. "I know something's wrong. What did he do?"

"Nothing I wasn't expecting," Wynter mumbled, his face lightly pressed against Cav's t-shirt. He leaned back and flashed a winning smile, but Cav wasn't an idiot. He could see the good humor didn't make it to Wynter's eyes.

"I know you're upset. Talk to me."

Wynter sighed. "It's nothing. Warden attempted a last stab of the knife, but he failed in the attempt. That's it."

Cav nudged Wynter's chin higher, searching his mate's face to assure himself there truly were no wounds. The second he captured Wynter's gaze, his mate's eyes began to shine.

"What did he do?"

Wynter lifted a hand, dabbing at the corner of his eye. "He attempted to expose me. Us. Fortunately, Wilder and Vaughn already knew the truth, so it didn't have the impact Warden had assumed it would. He failed."

"Then why don't you seem happier? If he failed, you won."

"I don't feel like I've won," Wynter said before dropping onto the couch.

Cav sat beside Wynter and pulled his mate into the crook of his arm. "I suppose that means you're not a gazillionaire now?"

Wynter scoffed. "I'm allowed to remain in my home, which is now legally Wilder's home—and I get a basic allowance to cover food and minor expenses doled out by Wilder, as well. Once again, I have nothing to call my own."

"You have me," Cav whispered.

Wynter lifted his gaze. "I know I have you…" He paused. "At least I hoped it. And I know I can trust Wilder to cover those expenses. It's just…" He sighed.

"You didn't want to be beholden to another alpha."

"Exactly," Wynter muttered. "Even though I know Wilder will take care of me."

"I will, too. It's my job."

Wynter's lips curled at the edges. "Your job? That sounds like work."

"If you think you've not made me work for your affections, then you'd best rethink that."

Wynter reached out and moved Cav's chin, capturing his stare. "You never had to work for my affections. You've always had them."

Cav chuckled softly. "Waiting can be hard work. Especially when you have no patience."

"The waiting is over, my love." Wynter's gaze drifted. He stared off into space. Clearly, there was still something weighing on him.

"What else happened today? Did Vaughn show?"

"He did. And he looked like hell. I could smell a whole distillery on him." Wynter paused, his nose screwing up. "I'm worried about him… and I don't know what I can do to help him without pushing him away more."

"He needs time to calm down. He's not going to be able to listen to you right now, so let him breathe a bit."

"Vaughn already thinks I don't love him and don't care. I fear keeping my distance might only cement that."

"A few days. A week, tops. Then you can reach out again and see how responsive he is," Cav said. "Trust me."

Wynter rested his head on Cav's shoulder. He sighed and melted against Cav.

Cav sensed there was still something left unsaid, but he'd pushed and prodded enough. He kissed Wynter's forehead and cuddled close, his mind churning. "How about I take you away for a few days? Our first official trip together."

"I'd love it… but with all the chaos of the last few days, I'm honestly ready to simply relax."

"I promise this trip will be quick… and the end result will be nothing but relaxation. We can stay there, alone, for as long as you want."

"Alone?" Wynter asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Completely and utterly," Cav smirked. "A couple hour helicopter ride and we're there. All you have to do is pack a small overnight bag… though, I plan on keeping you naked and in bed most of the time, so maybe just a toothbrush."

Wynter smiled. "Sounds like heaven."

"If you wish to go, you say the word… but if you'd rather stick close to the boys, I understand that, too."

Wynter sat up and turned to face Cav. "Let's do it. Otherwise, I'll likely end up nagging Vaughn and wearing out my welcome with Avery and Wilder. They could all use a break from me, I'm sure." Wynter paused a moment, eyes widening. "What about Harris, though? He came here to spend time with family. I can't go off and abandon him or leave him with Wilder to deal with."

"Why don't we ask him what he has on the agenda for the next few days? I have a feeling he's here to find where he goes next as much as he wanted to spend time with you."

Wynter rose. "I'll go see if he's in the main house. I can check in on Avery and Emory while I'm there."

"You just want an excuse to see your grandson."

"I don't need an excuse to go see my grandson," Wynter said. He paused, a soft smile coming over his lips and a glitter to his eyes. He snickered before turning and striding out.

Cav followed—after grabbing his plate from breakfast to return to the kitchen. Once he'd rinsed it and slid it into the washing machine, he ambled out into the living room and found Emory already cradled in Wynter's arms, who was curled up at Avery's side looking at what appeared to be a photo album.

"Hey, Cav," Avery said. He patted the couch beside him. "The mating ceremony photos were just delivered. Want a peek?"

"Of course I do," Cav said. He took the spot on the other side of Avery and eyed the glossy images. Cav eyed each one, scanning every inch, smiling to himself, yet saddened, too. It was yet another major event in his son's life that he'd missed, and only by a matter of days. Hopefully, he'd be there for the rest.

As the pages turned, he soon realized Wynter wasn't in any of the shots—nor was Warden. A part of him was curious about the man who'd taken his omega and wanted to get a good look. He'd found old newspaper clippings when he'd been digging for the truth and he'd seen the images on television when it was announced the man had passed, but nothing current.

"Of course, this little guy cut the proceedings short, but I'm not too upset. Even if I was, there's no being mad at this sweet little face," Avery added. "The photographer is really good and got some great shots. I thought you might like to see them."

"I know you weren't a fan of a backyard ceremony and reception, but it was still very elegant and intimate," Avery said to Wynter.

"Who said I wasn't a fan of it?" Wynter asked.

Avery lifted his gaze. "I thought I heard you'd complained about it."

Wynter shook his head. "I didn't." He leaned in closer. "Your backyard is stunning. Those huge rose bushes with the bricked paths? You couldn't ask for a better location. Going simple on the decorations except for candles and those large vases of the same roses? It's quite stunning, actually." Wynter sat back. "I only wish I hadn't missed it."

"You didn't go?" Cav asked, looking past Avery to his mate.

"That was the night Warden had his heart attack," Wynter murmured. "We were dressed and on our way to the door when he collapsed on the stairs." An odd look crossed Wynter's face. He turned to Avery. "Did Wilder bring the bag of Warden's personal effects home with him from the hospital?"

Avery lifted his gaze. "I believe he did. I think it's in his study. Do you need to get it?"

"If you don't mind?"

Avery rose and crossed the room, leaving them alone.

"What do you need from his belongings?"

"Nothing I need," Wynter said, smiling down at Emory. He lifted his gaze to Cav. "It's something for Wilder and Avery."

Avery strode back in, the clear plastic hospital bag clutched in one hand.

"If you don't mind checking the inside pockets of his jacket?" Wynter asked Avery.

Avery set the bag on the coffee table and rooted inside. He soon came back with an envelope.

"That's it," Wynter said. "That was our gift for you and Wilder. I'm not sure what it was. I'd had a vase shipped home from Eurasia for you, but Warden apparently broke it without telling me."

"I think I should wait until Wilder gets home and we can open it together." Avery tucked it under his leg before he glanced around the family room. "We could've used a vase. These sparse rooms are starting to get to me."

"And here I thought you were going for a minimalist vibe," Cav said with a grin. He liked it. Furniture plus an assortment of plants.

"Oh, I don't plan on adding too much more," Avery said. "But I also want it to feel like we live here. We'd just managed to get the house renovated before the ceremony. Then Emory… then the funeral… so decorating hasn't been a priority. The study is more a catch-all right now, with a slew of unpacked boxes from the apartment. The only reason the plants are out is that we needed to water them, otherwise, they'd likely still be in boxes, too."

"Well, now you have photos from the ceremony to add," Wynter said. "And I'm sure there are already a ton of photos of this little one on your phones. You need to pick a couple of masterpieces from those and have a few printed."

"I hear we might be hosting a Jaymes Family Reunion in the near future," Avery added. "We'll have to take family photos with the whole gang."

"Wilder now has the big house," Cav said, continuing to leaf through the earlier pages in the album they'd already seemed to have looked at. "That might be a better place to host that crew."

"No," both Avery and Wynter said in unison. Both men turned to look at one another and smiled.

"There's more space," Cav said.

"Agreed, there is," Wynter said. "But there's a million terrible memories in that house. Hopefully Wilder sells it. And soon." He glanced at Avery. "What was the reason behind your vehement no?"

Avery shrugged. "Wilder and I stopped by one day while you two were away. He wanted to show me where he'd grown up. It felt like I was walking around in a museum… not a family home. It didn't feel warm, at all. I couldn't even find photos of him and his brothers from when they were younger."

"Warden didn't believe family photos should go on the walls," Wynter replied. "There are plenty of them in my suite, though. I'll have to dig up the old photo albums of the kids and let you take a look. Maybe pick out a few of Wilder to hold on to and show your children someday."

"I'd like that… Where do you plan to live if he sells the house?" Avery asked, feigning disinterest.

Cav's head bobbed up. He was quite interested in Wynter's answer to that.

"I don't know," Wynter replied. "But don't worry. I won't abuse your generosity much longer. In fact, Cav wants to take me away for a few days to relax. After we return, I'll move back to the house and get out of your hair. And I'll take Harris with me, so you can have some peace and quiet."

"I grew up with two younger brothers. Peace and quiet feel weird, to be honest. When they moved in with my uncle and left me behind in the cottage while I was at the university, it was eerie at times. I didn't like it." Avery smiled at Wynter. "Which is my weird way of saying you're welcome to stay as long as you need to. I'm quite sure Wilder will agree."

Wynter smiled softly. "I appreciate it, but I won't abuse your offer, either."

"I have no problem telling you if you have," Avery said.

Cav chuckled to himself. He liked Avery more and more as the days passed. His son was bound to someone very much like Wynter.

"What's so funny down there?" Wynter asked him.

"Just laughing at how much Avery reminds me of you when you were younger."

"Oh, I'm nothing like Avery," Wynter scoffed.

Cav didn't miss the way Avery's face fell.

"No, Avery's far more courageous than I ever was. He's strong. Self-reliant. And he's stands up for what he believes. I wish I was more like him," Wynter said, smiling down at Emory. "And he's going to teach this little one to be just like him, I hope." Wynter lifted his gaze and smiled at Avery.

Avery's eyes misted over, the corners of his mouth curling up into a humble grin. "I, uh… thank you."

"I had hoped to find time during your reception to get you aside and apologize for the things I said to you when we first met—and tell you that I knew just how brave you'd been to do what you did. It took me a bit, and yes, I'd been worried my son was harboring a criminal when you first showed up on his doorstep—but I was very wrong about you. The kindness you've shown me since Warden's passing is much more than I deserved."

Avery leaned closer and hugged Wynter. Cav sat back, smiling at the pair. When they broke apart, Avery dabbed at his eyes. "Now, this better not be you greasing me up for more Emory time."

"Is that on the table?" Wynter asked, a wide grin on his face. "Do I get more cuddle time if I ply you with compliments? Because I'll keep a running list handy if that's the case."

Avery laughed, reaching over to wipe a bit of spit-up from Emory's mouth. "Compliments are always welcome." He lazily turned the page in the photo album, clearly unaware Cav had been turning pages here and there.

"Oh, that one," Wynter cooed, pointing to one on the top of the page nearest him. "That's the one you blow up and put on the wall."

Cav eyed it, grinning to himself. "You both look very much in love there."

Avery grinned at the page. "Yeah. We do, don't we? You just might be right, Wynter. That one's definitely wall-worthy." He smiled to himself, tracing a fingertip over Wilder's cheek.

Cav's heart swelled seeing Avery's affection.

"Where are you two running off to on this trip?" Avery asked, his head moving from side to side as he peeked at them.

"First, we need to find Harris. I need to see what his plans are for the next few days."

"I'm not sure where he is now but think he's planning on shadowing Wilder at J&A a couple of days this week," Avery said. "I know they discussed it last night."

"Oh?" Wynter asked. "I thought they were waiting to see if there was space for him there first?"

"With the Green Trust contract, they need an influx of new employees—they're sending a huge team of their best and brightest to work on the ARC ," Avery said.

"The ARC?" Cav asked.

"That's what they've dubbed the infrastructure portion of the project. The outer walls go up first, and then electric, water, and sewage," Avery replied.

"Wait," Cav said, twisting in his seat and turning to face Avery. "Walls and infrastructure? What for?"

"The new megaprovince," Avery said.

"What new megaprovince?" Cav asked.

"It's a brand-new, ecologically friendly province that will supposedly by more self-sustaining with less impact on the surrounding land. They're going up. High up. Skyscrapers, but nothing like anyone has seen before. I saw the concept drawings for the first one that'll house the city services, and it had rooftop gardens and green balconies. It was green all over. It was really cool."

"I've heard no news of this," Cav murmured. "And I try to keep tabs on a lot of things. I'd think a new megaprovince being built would've hit my radar." He considered that a moment. "It might make for an interesting story. I'll have to ask Wilder to connect me with the Green Trust folks."

Avery's eyes widened. "I don't know if I was supposed to share all of that. They never explicitly said it was hush-hush, but I don't want to get Wilder in trouble with Sadler."

"Sadler? Sadler Morgan?" Cav asked.

Avery nodded. "Yes. Do you know him?"

"Yeah," Cav said, chuckling. "He's my nephew. Well, nephew -in-law."

"I didn't know Sadler was mated," Avery said, frowning.

"He was. My nephew passed about five years ago now."

Both Wynter and Avery murmured their condolences.

Cav shrugged. "I appreciate it, but in all honesty, I'm not as close to my nephews as I should be. With all of the traveling I've done over the years, I'm rarely home. I slip in, toss some presents around, regale them with some stories, see how they're doing, and disappear again. It's been awhile since I've seen most of them. Last Yule, in fact. I think."

"We never had the chance to really talk about your siblings." Wynter eyed Cavanaugh. "You've met my brothers. Your turn next."

"How many brothers do you have, Cav?"

"Four."

Avery's eyes widened. "My mate went from no uncles to eight in a matter of days."

"Nine," Wynter murmured. "Autumn passed but he was still Wilder's uncle."

"My apologies," Avery said.

"You don't need to apologize," Wynter said. "I just don't want him forgotten." He gazed down at Emory. "Just like we won't let this little one forget his Uncle Jamie."

Cav smiled at Wynter.

"Then maybe we make it a massive family reunion and invite all of Wilder's new family to attend," Avery said. "All the uncles, mates, and cousins." He turned to Wynter. "Maybe we should consider using the big house."

Wynter chuckled. "Perhaps." He smiled. "Why not? We can give that place one last hurrah, filled with the family and laughter it never had before we bid it adieu."

"Yeah," Avery said.

Emory let out a little wail, and Avery was quick to scoop him from Wynter's arms.

"I know that cry," Avery murmured. Once Emory was latched on, Avery lifted his gaze. "Don't you guys worry about Harris. He and Wilder were up late talking last night like they were the oldest, dearest of friends. I think he'll be fine here without you for a few days."

"You've got your hands full enough," Wynter said.

"Harris is a grown man and can fend for himself—and I have a housekeeper who's a godsend and lets me focus on Emory. Go on your trip. I think you deserve a little rest and relaxation after all you've endured."

"How about this?" Wynter asked. "We have a full staff employed at the house where there's currently no one living. Why don't I call one or two of them over to unpack those boxes in the study while we're gone— if you want, of course —and you can just point to where you want everything?"

"That sounds amazing," Avery said. "I underestimated how busy a newborn would keep me. Everyone said all they did was sleep—which isn't wrong, but I didn't realize I'd want to sleep right along with him."

"I can send more help," Wynter said.

"I didn't grow up with a houseful of servants—just a housekeeper that came over for a few hours each day to give my papa a hand. That's all we need here."

"Understood," Wynter said. "Though, technically those servants are Wilder's right now. No point in not utilizing them."

"You and your servants," Cav murmured under his breath.

Wynter glared at him. "Yes, the folks we employ and pay wages to. The same folks who, if let go, might not be able to feed their families or keep a roof over their heads."

Cav winced. He'd not considered that side of the equation.

"I'm sure they're all concerned what will happen to them now. Some have been with us for decades, and a couple have shown me many kindnesses over the years. I'd take them with me if I could," Wynter said. "I wish I could assure them that their jobs were safe. Hopefully whoever buys the house will retain most of them."

"I'll put a bug in Wilder's ear," Avery said. "And make sure he considers them through the process."

"I would appreciate that," Wynter replied. He rose and eyed Cav. "Are you ready to take your spoilt omega on this trip?"

Cav winced. "I suppose I deserved that."

"You did," Wynter said.

Cav turned his attention to Avery. "I'm going to book a flight out first thing. You might need to say our goodbyes to Wilder and Harris, depending on what's available."

"Taken care of," Avery said. "I hope you two have an amazing time."

"Me, too," Cav said, grinning.

Returning from the reading, Vaughn slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the empty house. While his property was nowhere as large as his parents, his recently purchased residence was still too large for one person. The space was unnerving, not helped by the lack of furniture. He'd bought it because it was a gorgeous property in one of the best neighborhoods in the province— and because an old college frat brother he'd always secretly hated had lost it along with a floundering business. He'd scooped up the house on a whim, loving that he'd enjoy what his bully had once cherished.

Big, empty, and devoid of life—it was just as he felt. He crossed to the one room he'd bought a few pieces for, the den, and poured himself another in the long line of whiskeys that had started the day before. The next two drained his decanter—a housewarming gift from his papa. He hefted the empty lead crystal vessel in one hand before thrusting it at the opposite wall. It shattered into a million pieces, the sounds of them hitting the bare, wooden floor like music to his ears. He swallowed the last gulp of alcohol and searched for another—only to realize he was out.

He sighed, frustrated that he had no staff to send for more. He hadn't bothered hiring more than a beta to come once a week for light cleaning and laundry, not that he had much to clean. Grabbing his keys, he strode to the door to purchase more to drown the ugly voices in his mind. As soon as he swung the door open, he found Wilder standing there. "What do you want?"

Wilder produced an envelope. "I think you should read this."

"I'm in no mood," Vaughn muttered.

"It's Warden's last words to Papa."

"Definitely not in the mood," Vaughan said. He exited the door and slammed it behind him. "Get out of my way."

"Where are you going?"

"None of your business."

Wilder was suddenly looming in front of him. "I knew you were only hungover this morning—so I didn't question you driving home. Now, I can scent you've had a few. You're not getting behind the wheel."

"Do you really think you can stop me?"

"I know I can… and I will make it hurt if I have to."

Vaughn chuckled mirthlessly. "An excuse to beat me while I'm down, hmm?"

Wilder sighed. "No, you stupid alphahole—because I don't want you killing yourself, or others, behind the wheel of that car that shouldn't even be street legal."

Vaughn fought the idea that Wilder gave two shits about him. "Emphasis on the others, right?"

"I know I lost my cool with you and I said some shitty things, but you're not the only one hurting here. I lost a father, too."

"He isn't your father," Vaughn snapped.

"No, but I grew up assuming he was. Finding out I've been lied to my entire life hasn't been easy, either. You're not the only one with shit going on in their lives, so stop being so fucking self-centered for once in your life."

Vaughn pushed past Wilder, not ready for another talking down to. Wilder snatched his arm and spun him around.

He shoved against Wilder's chest with both palms. "Get your fucking hands off me."

Wilder grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him closer. "Not if you're getting behind that wheel." He held out a hand. "Keys."

"Fuck you."

Wilder grabbed Vaughn's hand, twisting the fingers until he was able to pry the keys away. He leapt back, out of Vaughn's reach, and pocketed them.

"You know I have more than one car," Vaughn muttered.

"I've got the time and the inclination. I'll take every last set away if I have to."

Vaughn chuckled, but there was no humor left within. A tide of mixed emotions swept over him, and he fought the pain slamming against him. "Just leave me alone."

"Under any other circumstances, I would, but I won't allow you to harm yourself."

Vaughn glared at him.

"You think I don't care about you, but nothing can be farther from the truth, Vaughn. I know we're very different people, and we've said things in anger over the last few days—hell, we've said things in anger most of our lives. For a long time, I wasn't sure I'd want or need to have a relationship with you. But the last few months working together have proven that I do. I want it… and I need it. I need my brother in my life, Vaughn. Even if it's only a half."

Vaughn held his stare, silent.

"The more I think about things, I wonder if Warden was pitting us against one another on purpose, knowing when the truth came out, that we'd likely go to war with one another. Give everything to me, the supposed pretender for the throne, so that one day his real son might be sent over the edge and retaliate."

"You both keep trying to turn Dad as some kind of psychopath, capable of atrocities we've never seen him come close to committing. Did he make mistakes? Sure—but this? Stop painting him as a monster just because you need him to be."

Wilder pulled the envelope from his pants pocket and slammed it against Vaughn's chest. "Read this—in Warden's own words and his own hand—and tell me he's not a monster."

Vaughn wasn't in the mood to hear one more terrible thing about his family, yet he took the letter and opened it anyway, his curiosity winning out. He recognized his father's handwriting and tone. The beginning rehashed some of the same basic points his father had said in the will—but by the second page, what he read took his breath away. And it sobered him. He lifted his gaze to Wilder before returning to read more. When he came to the end, he sat on one of the stairs leading to his front door, stunned.

"Warden tried to expose Papa at the reading and lit a match to the powder keg—only it had been dampened by the fact we already knew the truth. But what if that hadn't happened? Did he imagine you'd learn then that I wasn't his son, right after hearing the J&A stock had gone to me, and you'd explode?" Wilder shrugged.

"Do you not understand what all this means for me?" Vaughn asked. "You call me self-centered, but you didn't just find out you're the product of incest with a long line of mental health issues mixed in. Papa's papa was mad. Papa's had moments where he wasn't much better." He lifted the letter in his hand. "And now I learn my father put a hit out on my papa. And he gleefully admits it? Why? Why would he do that?"

"Order the hit or the admission?"

"Neither is something a sane person would do."

"We don't know his story," Wilder said. "And I fear we might never know."

"Plus he's not here to defend himself," Vaughn said.

"You have a point, but it's pretty hard to defend what's in that letter," Wilder said. "While I'd like to think he owned up to it because it was weighing on his soul, from the tone of the letter, I think he wanted to hurt Papa one last time."

"Yeah," Vaughn murmured. "I got that feeling, too."

Wilder took a seat beside him on the stone steps, silent.

A few seconds passed in silence.

"What if I turn into him, Wilder?"

"Learning this doesn't change who you are. You're still the same person, with the same wants and needs. You're still an intelligent, accomplished alpha who's the CFO of a powerful, multiprovincial company on the rise—and you're not even thirty yet."

"Nepotism."

"Yes, but you've proven time and time again that you're capable in that chair, regardless of how you got there. You're smart, quick on your feet, with out-of-the-box thinking. You see moves ahead of me—and one day, once you've got more experience under your belt—you're going to make an incredible CEO of Jaymes & Associates."

Vaughn handed the letter and envelope back to his brother. "If I follow in my father's footsteps and try to have you killed, I suppose I can have that title."

Wilder scoffed, folding and shoving the letter inside the envelope.

"Why's that funny? The only way I get that spot is you die, or I force you out. I don't say that because I have plans for either at the moment, but it's the truth of the matter."

"There might be other options. Maybe I'll move on to something else when you're ready—or perhaps we lead together as Co-CEOs down the line."

"Co-CEOs? Don't patronize me, Wild."

"You're the out-of-the-box thinker here. How can you only see two options?" Wilder asked. "We've landed the Green Trust account. J&A gets to build a brand-new megaprovince. It's going to take years to finish the work on the outer walls and infrastructure—and once it's done, we plant our flag and open new offices there so we can be the builder they choose to construct everything else inside. One day, that province will grow to be bigger than Alexandria. Who's going to take the helm and run the show there?"

The idea was interesting, but Vaughn fought his curiosity. "You'd still be the CEO."

"Not if we spun it off as a new business under the board's control."

Vaughn narrowed his eyes. "You have nearly all the stock now, which means you can place yourself as president of the board."

"I wasn't talking shit when I said I planned to split that stock with you. We could be equal partners," Wilder said.

"Equal partners in my father's business?"

"Equal partners in a family business started by our great-great-grandfather," Wilder corrected.

Vaughn glared, not wanting Wilder to know his interest was piqued.

Wilder rose off the step and fully faced him. "Do you truly think owning J&A and controlling every aspect on your own, without me, will make you happy? Will it satisfy whatever need you have within and prove whatever it is you feel the need to prove? Because, if that's the case, it's yours. Buy me out with Warden's assets and take control. I'll move on to my next adventure right now—if it brings you peace."

The past months working side-by-side with Wilder had been some of the best of his life. He'd finally gotten the brother he'd wanted all along. Things had been moving along swimmingly—until their father had died.

My father.

He sighed inwardly. What did it really matter? Wilder hadn't known. Neither of them had. They'd each assumed Warden was his dad his entire life. He knew he wasn't being fair, but it was hard to let it go, either—not after the time and attention, knowledge, and ownership Warden had poured into Wilder. When it had been Vaughn's turn, he'd seemed to get the abridged version of ‘How to Run This Company.' He'd always assumed it was because Wilder was the heir apparent, and he was simply the spare.

That assumption had made him want to prove himself as more than that. And if he could prove it, perhaps he'd finally win Wilder's respect. They'd spent years in competition, more so in Vaughn's mind, he was sure, until they'd finally found a way to work together.

Did he really want to lose that?

"Fine," Vaughn said. "I want the stocks and the chair—and I want you out. Hopefully the sale of the house, the other stocks, and the liquid assets will be enough to cover it, but if not, I can get a loan to cover the rest."

The light in Wilder's eyes dimmed. "If that's what you truly want, so be it. I won't allow this company to tear us apart, Vaughn. Hopefully we can see our way past it once you have what you want." He was silent a moment. "We'll have to plan it carefully and keep it hush until the estate is managed and the house sold. Until then, I can start ccing you on everything and have you sit in on all meetings to keep you up to speed and get your input."

Vaughn stared at his brother. "You'd seriously walk away from everything you've worked for and all the things we've got planned?" Vaughn asked. He'd expected Wilder to talk his way out of the offer, not double-down. "I don't believe it."

"Do you want me to put it in writing? We can walk inside now, and I'll write my offer down and sign it right here, so you know it's yours."

Vaughn frowned.

"Knowing what our father… what Warden did… makes it a little harder for me to respect his legacy. I know that we have big things ahead for J&A, but it's all a bit tainted now, especially if it ends up destroying our relationship on top of it all. I'd rather have my brother than control of that." He sighed. "I'm still young. I'm a successful CEO. I think there's many a business in this province that might want me to lead their organization. Or hell, maybe I start my own firm. Create a brand-new family business to pass on to my children, one without all the dark secrets this one has."

"It sounds like you've put thought into this."

"Warden blackmailed Papa, pitting my ascendence against ensuring Jamie had comfort at the end of his life. So yeah. You're damned right I've thought it over." He took a half-step closer. "I won't allow J&A to be used to hurt us again. If this is what you need, Vaughn, take it. It doesn't mean what it once did to me, which means maybe you are the best man for the job now."

Vaughn held his brother's gaze and knew Wilder was telling the truth. They stood at a crossroads. What he said next would take them down one of two paths. Either he spoke the truth… or he got what he always claimed he'd wanted. For some reason, he sensed the victory would ring hollow. "I'm not ready."

Wilder's brow furrowed.

"You're right. Dad was right. I don't have the experience to run the show."

"I think you've proven you can. When I took time off for Avery's trial, you covered for me. And did a great job."

"I called Dad more than once to get his advice," Vaughn murmured. "I didn't tell you… because I wanted you to think it was all me." He chuckled. "Fake it until you make it. That's my motto."

"You act as if asking for advice was a bad call. It was a good one. I hate that you turned to him instead of me, but I'm glad you asked someone with working knowledge of the company to help make the right decisions."

"I've only been at J&A for six years. I have a lot more I need to learn." Vaughn frowned. "From my big brother."

The corners of Wilder's lips just barely curled upward. "Which means…?"

Vaughn growled. "I don't want you to go, you bastard."

Wilder's smile grew. "So, we forget the ugliness of the past and turn this into a true family company, working side-by-side?"

"If you can get over the taint of Warden's legacy."

"We build a new one. Together." Wilder shoved one hand into his pocket, tapping the envelope against his thigh. "And perhaps by the time the new province's infrastructure is complete, you'll be ready to lead the firm there."

Vaughn eyed Wilder. "Sadler has his sights set on you being his go-to man. He's all but said as much."

"We can start out with that and slowly bring you in on more and more. That gives him time to see you in action and know what you're capable of. The more responsibilities you take over, the more he'll see you as the leader there. A painless transition."

As usual, Wilder always had the right answer. Vaughn's gaze was drawn to the envelope clutched in his brother's hand. "Are you sure you want to do this with me?"

Wilder searched his face, brow furrowing. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I had one psychopathic parent capable of ordering the other murdered. What if it's in the genes?"

"Don't," Wilder said. "Don't you fucking dare put his bullshit on your shoulders. You're better than that." He chuckled. "Though I have called you a little sociopath before."

"Oh, lovely. Just what I needed to hear."

"Come on, you relish getting under people's skin. Finding their buttons and pushing as hard as you can. See how far you can push. That's pretty much the definition of a sociopath."

Vaughn fought the smile coming to his lips. "I read somewhere that the best CEOs had sociopathic tendencies."

Wilder arched a knowing brow.

Vaughn changed the subject. He didn't need any more fuel filling his ‘Am I too much like Dad' tank. "Just so we're clear… We might be working on common ground here, but I'm not ready to make nice with Papa. I don't know if I'll ever be ready."

"I'm sorry he said what he did… but seeing what torment Warden put him through, I…" Wilder sighed. "Fuck, I don't want to say the wrong thing here and fuck things up again."

Vaughn closed his eyes.

"It wasn't you," Wilder said.

Vaughn lifted his gaze. "What?"

"It wasn't that he didn't want you," Wilder said. "He hadn't wanted children by a man who'd caused him so much pain. I mean, in his shoes, would you?"

Vaughn already knew the answer, and it stung. Of course not. He wouldn't have wanted to bring children into that fucked-up relationship.

"I know it might be impossible to separate in your mind, but—it had everything to do with Warden and nothing to do with you personally. He loves you, Vaughn."

The logic Wilder was trying to use wasn't effectual on his liquor-laced brain, no matter how much that letter had sobered him. "I said I wasn't ready, and I meant I'm not ready."

"Understood," Wilder said. "I leave that between you and him."

Vaughn eyed the envelope again. The longer he sat with the idea that his father had attempted to kill his papa, the more sympathy grew for the latter—and that only caused his anger to flare. He wanted to hate Wynter Jaymes. It was easier to feel that than everything else.

"Had he succeeded, neither of us would be here," Wilder murmured.

Vaughn lifted his gaze. "Hmm?"

Wilder lifted the envelope. "I assumed this is what you were staring at." He lowered it. "We should both be grateful to Cavanaugh for saving Papa, if only for the simple fact we exist."

"One of us more so than the other," Vaughn said. "Since you've got his DNA, to boot. I'm the unwanted, inbred bastard with two mentally unwell parents."

"Technically you can't be a bastard given that Warden and Wynter were legally mated. If anyone's the bastard here, it's me."

Vaughn fought a smile. "Cavanaugh is Papa's fated mate, so in the eyes of nature, I shouldn't exist."

"I'm glad you do," Wilder said. He shrugged, grinning. "Some of the time."

Vaughn chuckled.

"If you have real concerns about the whole two mentally unwell parents—I know you weren't keen on therapy, but it might help. I'm considering talking to someone so I can work it all out."

"You'd really go to a head-shrinker?"

"Do you want your future to be like our parents'?" Wilder asked. "Or do you want to find a way out of the vicious cycle?"

Vaughn considered that question, eyeing his brother.

Wilder continued. " I want to be a better man—for Avery and our children. Either I follow our parents' fucked-up examples, or I learn new skills so my kids can grow up happy and healthy."

"Fair enough. I won't give you shit about it if it's for your kids." He paused a moment. " Kids? I know I wasn't exactly focused on your crotch goblins when I came over, but I'm pretty sure I only saw one."

"Only one." Wilder grinned. "For now."

"I seem to recall Avery being adamant that he wanted a career. The plan is he's coming to work for me in a few months, so I'd very much appreciate you keeping any more of your seed out of his womb."

"That's entirely up to him," Wilder said, his smile growing. "Not me."

Vaughn narrowed his eyes at Wilder.

"Speaking of you not focusing on my supposed crotch goblins , you really should come over and meet your nephew, Uncle Vaughn." Wilder scoffed. "And while you're there… your Uncle Harris."

"My Uncle Who?"

"I've been calling you for days. Papa, Cav, and I flew to Blacksburg to meet Papa's brothers. I tried to get through to you to see if you wanted to come along, but you haven't been answering my calls."

"I got angry and tossed my phone into the pool out back," Vaughn admitted.

"Well, I met our four Blacksburg uncles, and the youngest, Harris, returned here with us. I think he's looking for a fresh start. With the Green Trust Project, we're stretched a bit thin. I thought we might be able to find a spot for him at J&A."

"Great. More fucked-up family," Vaughn muttered.

"I actually like him. He seems like he's got a good head on his shoulders. I'd be hesitant to give him too much responsibility until I saw him in action, though."

"Why? Do you not trust him?"

"It's not that. It's the fact he was raised by Papa's parents. I just want some proof he's not a timebomb, waiting to go off," Wilder said. "We start small, see what he's made of, and if he can handle pressure—and decide if he's the right fit." Wilder paused to search Vaughn's face. "After you meet him and approve, that is. We're in this together, so if it feels wrong to you, we don't do it."

"Appreciated." Vaughn smiled faintly.

"Well, I should get back to my omega and little one. I'll get out of your hair if you promise me you won't get behind the wheel until you've sobered up."

"Promise," Vaughn murmured. "Can I have the keys back before you go?"

Wilder lifted his hand and spun the ring around his forefinger. He glanced over his shoulder and turned back with a wide grin. "Nah. I think I'll take your car home. I can leave my driver here. If you're dead set on going somewhere, he can drive you."

"Oh, come on, Wilder. You don't know how to drive that beast."

"Says who?" Wilder called over his shoulder as he wandered closer.

"You just said it shouldn't be street legal—and you were right. It barely is."

Wilder spun to face him with a wide grin but continued walking backward toward the car.

"Wilder," Vaughn growled.

"What?"

"If you wrap that car around a tree on your way home, I'm not responsible. Call Avery and tell him that—and that I warned you not to."

"Oh, do you care whether I live or die, little brother?"

Vaughn scowled. "Wreck my car and I'll kill you. Does that answer your question?"

Wilder slid behind the wheel and revved the engine, pursing his lips at the sound. Vaughn sighed, sure his car was going to end up totaled. He just hoped his brother survived it.

Wilder turned the engine off and closed the door, grinning. He sauntered closer and handed Vaughn the keys. "If I find out you drove drunk, our whole deal is off. You hear me?"

Vaughn snatched the keys, thankful. "Yeah, yeah."

"I can take you somewhere, if you need to go out," Wilder murmured. "Take me home and take my driver, if you need him. Seriously."

Vaughn eyed Wilder. "I don't need to go anywhere now."

"Good." Wilder smiled. "Order some food to be delivered. Something greasy to soak up the alcohol… and get some sleep."

"Okay, Dad." Vaughn regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

Wilder's smile faltered some, but it was back in place quick. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow, right?"

Vaughn nodded. "Bright and early." He scowled. "Or at least by ten."

Wilder scoffed, turning toward his waiting car. "See you tomorrow."

Vaughn watched his brother leave. For the first time in days, the quicksand under his feet felt a little more like terra firma. His thoughts drifted back to the letter… and his papa's stories of the past. He'd struggled to accept the light his father had been put in, but that letter?

It was damning.

It wasn't that he didn't want you. He hadn't wanted children by a man who'd caused him so much pain. I mean, in his shoes, would you?

Of course his papa wouldn't have wanted Warden's children, but it was hard to take the personal aspect out of the equation. His papa hadn't wanted him.

And that knowledge stung.

Wynter Jaymes had been abused by nearly every person in his life. They'd either had a hand in tormenting him or turned their backs and allowed it to happen. Did he add his name to that list by turning his back?

Yet, how could he face the man, knowing he shouldn't exist?

Vaughn scrubbed his face with both hands. He was still too inebriated to consider such existential questions logically—even though the effects had already started wearing off. The letter had been a slap to the face and a bucket of ice water dumped over his head combined. After a few more minutes of maudlin thoughts, he rose and returned to his empty house.

He strode to his den and flipped on his music. Cranking up the volume, he filled the empty place with sound. While it hurt his aching head, it made it easier not to think. He collapsed into his office chair, reached for his phone, and put in a delivery at DeNardo's Pizza, more food than he could eat himself, but whatever.

Tossing his phone aside, he rested his head back and closed his eyes. A familiar face appeared, as it had for well over a year. He forced it gone, but it was relentless and would come back at the worst moment the next time, he was sure. The omega had done everything he could to avoid Vaughn, thankfully, but he feared one day, they'd need to face their destiny.

He wasn't ready.

Neither was Lake.

The kid was young, just turned eighteen according to the invitation to the birthday party he'd gotten— and ignored —a few months earlier. Lake needed time to grow up.

Hell, he needed time to grow up, too.

In all honesty, Vaughn didn't want an omega in his life—but even if he did, he sure as hell didn't want a child under him. He chuckled to himself. At least that was one thing he didn't have in common with Warden Fucking Jaymes.

But then, Lake had never gone into heat feet away from him either, so it was hardly a fair comparison. Yet he'd take it as the win he needed.

Vaughn flipped the volume even higher, sure the neighbors would soon be calling the Guard to his door, but he didn't much care. He forced Lake Stephens and all the other bullshit of his shitshow of a life out of his head and considered the only good thing going for him.

Wilder's deal.

Maybe if he poured all his energy into that, he could ignore the rest of the noise for a while.

Sounds like a plan.