“Recently.”
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his hand sliding over his chin. “Does Father know?”
“He knows and not because I told him. He told me.”
“His comments at dinner,” he says. “The wills. The Brandon family staying in control. He thinks Mike is plotting a takeover.”
“And Mom is in Mike’s bed. That equates to conspiring as far as Father’s concerned.”
His gaze sharpens on me. “And you? Do you think the two of them are conspiring?”
“You tell me,” I say, folding my arms in front of me. “You’re the one buddying up with Mike.”
“For his vote, and my own control, not his, but for him to do this, he’d need to be certain that you or I didn’t inherit the ammunition Father has on him.”
“Mom’s resourceful,” I say, remembering my request for that information she has yet to deliver to me. “If it really exists—”
“It does.”
“Then she might have it.”
“I met with Mike this morning,” he surprises me by admitting. “I don’t believe he has it.”
“Why did you meet with him?”
“To tell him you’re the acting CEO and a fucking bastard,” he says. “Why do you think?”
Translation: to plot how to unseat me. I move on, staying focused on gaining every drop of information this chat might deliver for my arsenal. “Does Mike know about Martina or the FDA?”
“Contrary to what you think, I don’t hand anyone ammunition to use against me. I learned that lesson from our father. Anything Mike knows, Mom told him; I sure as hell haven’t shared any of the details with her, and I know for a fact Father never tells her anything.”
“But again, she’s smart. She’s capable of finding things out.”
“This is Mom you’re talking about,” he argues. “Even if he cut her out of his will, she’d inherit a small fortune, and I can’t believe she’d betray us, her sons.”
“Unless Father’s moved the money around so that it seems like there is nothing.”
“He could have. It’d be lower than I give him credit for, but he could have. But if he did, we assume she’s doing what?”
“Trying to be on the winning team that isn’t us,” I say. “And if that’s true—”
“Mike’s aggressively planning a hostile takeover and she thinks it will work,” he supplies, his lips thinning.
“That’s where my head is at,” I confirm.
“And Pops? What does he think? Where’s his head?”
“Mike’s sleeping with Mom. Where do you think his head is?”
“He wants to ruin him.”
“Or at least control him,” I say.
“Control him how?”
“He’s working on a plan,” I say, offering no further detail.
“I’ll make this easy on everyone,” he says. “I have one. Use Martina against him.”
I press my hands on the desk, leaning toward him. “Are you crazy? We don’t know what Martina will do to him, and Mom could end up collateral damage in the process.”
“Jesus, Shane. I’m not telling you to have Martina kill Mike. I’m telling you to make it clear to Mike that inheriting this company means inheriting Martina and his drug cartel family.”
Relieved that he has not stooped to ordering hits on people, I absorb his meaning with a mixed reaction, hitching my hip on the edge of my desk. “You just said you didn’t tell him about Martina or the FDA for a reason. You didn’t want him to have ammunition on you.”
“Which is why we need to turn the tables. Get ammunition on him that ensures if he tries to take us down, he goes down too. We need to connect him to Martina. Make it look like he’s the instigator of the cartel relationship. Like he forced us into it. Then he’s a captive. We control him.”
His use of the word “we” is coming a little too easily after years of shunning me. I narrow my eyes at him. “Was this your plan? Get him on your side, set him up, and then use him to force me out?” I don’t wait for a reply I don’t think I can stomach. “Because if it was, you failed. It’s not Martina’s plan. Martina’s plan is nothing shy of owning us all.”
“How would you know anything about Martina’s plan?”
“Adrian Martina came to see me last night. Made it to my door without authorization.”
“How did he even get to your floor when I can’t?”
“We’d have to ask the member of my security team who went missing last night, if he ever returns. And for the sake of his wife and young children, I hope the hell he does.”
His eyes harden. “What did he want?”
“It was all about power. He wanted to send a message. He has it. We do not. Is that really how you want Brandon Enterprises to end up? Under his control?”
His expression tightens and he stares at me for several beats, his face unreadable before he walks back to the window. I join him, stepping to his side, both of us folding our arms in front of us at the same moment. The same, but different. Together, but apart. “Emily said Ramon followed her today.”
“He did,” I say. “And he made sure I knew. Just like Adrian made a point of telling me you’re using Teresa to get to him.”
We face each other, hands going under our jackets to our hips. Again the same, but different. “And you said?”
“I told him you fell for a girl and saw an opportunity. You are aware that Ramon is in love with Teresa, I assume.”
“Believe me, I’m crystal clear on that point.”
“Adrian only needs one of us, Derek. You’re fucking Teresa. He’s going to pick me.”
Before I can blink, his hands are on my lapels and he’s shoved me against the window. “Is that a threat?”
I shove him backward with enough force that he stumbles, and I get the hell off the glass. “It was a plea that we stand together. Clear the company of outsiders. Then if you want to fight with me, we’ll fight it out—brother to brother—on our terms, one-on-one, the way it should be. Truce, brother. Choose family.”
“Is that what you were doing when you drafted that document that just made you acting CEO? Choosing family?”
The fire alarm goes off, blasting through the overhead speakers. “Martina,” I say, already walking. “I went to see Teresa today. He’s making me pay. I need to get to Emily.”
He grabs me again before I can make it to the door. “Why the hell did you go see Teresa?”
“Mom is in the building too,” I tell him. “Martina is coming for our family and anyone we care about. We need to get everyone out.”
“Damn it,” he growls. “You did this. If anyone gets hurt, it’s on you.” He releases me, but the safety of everyone in this building is far more important to me right now than the reality check he deserves. Exiting the office, I find Jessica missing and I keep moving, leaving Derek to deal with his secretary, and when I reach the lobby as Seth does, both of us notice that the receptionist is still at her desk. “Get up and get outside,” Seth orders.
She gives him a deer-in-headlights look. “Isn’t it just a drill?”
I’m already past her desk and headed toward my father’s office, where I hope like hell I find him and Emily.