Bad Deeds (Dirty Money #3)

“That I hate you and I love you. And I’m here to fight with you to save the company, but I can’t work with you long-term. I want you to buy me out.”

I push off the desk and narrow my eyes on him. “Emily said you called her and you weren’t in the best place. Now you’re here. Dressed to work. On your game with Mike. Teresa called you. You’re running away with her.”

“No. Teresa didn’t call me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Teresa didn’t call me.”

“Something happened.” I tilt my head and study him. “You know where she is.”

“No,” he says. “But as I was reading her letter again this morning, I had a realization. Teresa was brave enough to choose another path. You chose another path when you went to New York. This is all I’ve ever been, and yet it’s never been all I could be. I need to let go of the company. The way she let go of her family and me.”

“You know where she is,” I repeat.

“It doesn’t matter if I know where she is. I would never go to her again the way I am now. I need to be that better man she told me to be. And I can’t be him when I’m trying to be Pops or you. There’s no war between us anymore. The company’s yours.” He starts walking toward the door, and I turn to watch him leave, a knot forming in my chest.

“You can always change your mind,” I call out.

“But I won’t,” he says, and then he’s gone. I stand there, staring after him, trying to identify what it is I feel. And one word comes to my mind. Pride. I am proud of my brother, and I know he will be that better man. Now it’s time for me to give him the gift of freedom by cleaning up our mess. I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Adrian Martina. “Shane Brandon,” he answers. “What great news do you have for me?”

“I have a proposal to talk about.”

“A proposal. I’m intrigued. Come to the restaurant.”

“Starbucks on Sixteenth Street in fifteen minutes.”

“You presume I have nothing better to do. That’s obnoxiously demanding.”

“And my proposal involves an obnoxious amount of money.”

I end the call.

*

I walk into the Starbucks with Seth by my side to find Adrian sitting at a table in a corner with another burly older man standing behind him. Seth and I walk toward them, and I sit across from Adrian while Seth remains standing, mimicking the other man.

“This is Pedro,” Adrian says.

I don’t look at Pedro. I don’t care about Pedro. And Adrian already knows Seth. “I’ll get to the point. Mike Rogers, the owner of the Denver Mavericks—”

“I know who he is. The stockholder who’s fucking your mother.”

“Was fucking my mother,” I bite out. “He’s trying to force a hostile takeover of Brandon Enterprises, which means I won’t be in control of the pharmaceuticals brand.”

“Except you’re too damn good to let him win.”

“But you want him to win,” I say. “You want him to buy out the pharmaceuticals brand. And you want this because he’s the kind of little bitch you can control.”

“I’ve looked into him. He is a little bitch.”

“I gave him a proposal, and he needs encouragement to take it—which I’m quite confident you can give him.”

“I can,” he says. “What about my drug study?”

“I’ll submit the paperwork before the deal is signed, to ensure it happens.” I slide a file toward him. “In case you need encouragement. The profit statements will get your attention.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“Money from the buyout and freedom from you.”

“I do like that you’re honest. It’s not something I see a lot of.” He flips open the documents and looks at the highlighted number. “You have my attention. I’ll look it over, and if it’s acceptable, I’ll ensure he goes along with your proposal.”

“I need you to pull the illegal drugs out of the operation until this is done.”

“I told you—”

“Short-term loss for bigger long-term gains.”

He studies me for a few long, intense beats. “If I decide to do this, then I’ll pull them out.”

“Let me give you some extra incentive.” I shift the papers in the folder and set a new page on top.

He studies it for a moment and then looks at me. “This is a proposal to buy out the sports center where Mike’s team plays.”

“Yes. I have an investment team and half the funds. Your team would need to supply the other half. But it’s legitimate. It’s obnoxiously profitable, and you’d be primed to buy a team or just pick up a piece of Mike’s.”

“And what do you get from this? Are you a partner?”

I flip to another sheet of paper. “Broker fee and I’m out.”

“Smart move, but I expect nothing less from you. You get money and freedom. And I’d own Mike every which way and back.”

“That’s right. And I’d venture to say you’d be richer than your father without having to hide your money. You’d change the legacy of the Martina name. And that’s what you said you want to do.”

“And how will you change the Brandon name?”

“Fashion. We’re going into fashion.”

“Fashion,” he says. “Interesting. I’ll call an emergency board meeting about the sports center. And since I know you’d never cheat me, consider Mike my new possession. I’ll have the illicit operation removed from your facility by Monday morning. Anything else?”

“Yes. There is. My brother.”

“What about Derek?”

“He lives. He keeps his fingers. He’s untouchable.”

“You’re asking for my word?”

“Yes. I’m asking for your word.”

“And you trust my word.”

“I believe you are a killer. I believe you are vicious. But I believe you’re a man of your word.”

“That I am.” He lifts the folder. “And you’ve paid for your brother’s freedom. I’ll be in touch. And so will Mike.” He stands and leaves, and I shut my eyes, relief washing over me, daring to believe this might be over.

An hour later, I walk into the lobby of the office, a bag in my hand, then round the corner to Emily’s desk and motion for her to join me in my father’s office.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” I buzz Derek’s desk. “Derek, man. Come to Pops’s office. It’s important. And no, nothing is wrong with him.”

Emily gives me a curious look. “You look happy.”

“I am.” I pull the whiskey from the bag and grab three glasses from the cabinet in the corner. “Which is why we’re drinking obnoxiously expensive whiskey.” I start filling the glasses, and Derek walks in.

“That’s some damn good whiskey,” he says, joining us at the desk. “There’s either really bad news or really good news.”

“Adrian guaranteed me your safety after agreeing to force Mike into making the deal. And he’s going in on a deal to buy the sport center that we’re brokering for a massive chunk of change. In other words, brother, if you do cash out, do it after this deal. You’ll have the money to do whatever the hell you want.”

Emily’s gaze jerks to Derek. “You’re leaving?”

“I know you’ll miss my sweetness,” he says dryly. “But you can call. I won’t tell Shane. But yeah. I think it’s time I try something new.”

“We’re going to get crazy rich with a new fashion line. You might want to stay.”