✧

Considering I am thirty-three years old, my father still treats me like a child. In many ways we're similar, he has always wanted me to go down the business route. He said that I was going to be an amazing entrepreneur when I was younger because I had an eye for things he didn't.

But as I got older I realised the last thing I wanted to do was work with or for my father.

He's extremely successful in his own field, having started an investment company when he was in his twenties and now it's flying.

I decided to take a different route. At first I created my own insurance company, it was easy and will always be needed in society today–so there will always be customers. My only issue is that I found it incredibly boring as time went on, little space for creativity, little space for progression into something bigger. Always the same shit at the CEO, day in, day out.

So I sold it four months ago. It's safe to say that my father wasn't very happy.

But he was right, I'd make a very good entrepreneur as I'm always onto the next thing. I have ideas flowing out of my mind, left, right and centre and sometimes I can't sleep because I am overwhelmed with so much damn thinking.

The last four months I've been taking some time out for myself, figuring out what I want my next steps to be. I want to invest in another business or property and make a project out of it, anything to challenge myself and build new skills. I'm always up for learning.

Although today, my father, John, has requested to see me over his lunch period. Which to me is strange because he barely has time to even call my mother when she asks, no doubt he's going to be shoving his own ideas down my neck about what I'm doing now that I don't have anything to focus on.

He's always got to worry about what other people are doing instead of himself.

Nosy fucker.

I can tolerate my father because I know that him and my mother brought me up right, along with my brother, Nicholas. They gave us everything, they've given me this life in which I live freely and happily–sort of.

Most of the time I keep my relationship with my father for the sake of the family but sometimes I don't know if it's worth it because he's such a grump, I don't even know if he values me as a son sometimes. Yet I'm over it at my big age.

I make my way to his private offices and greet his young secretary who tells me to go into his office as he's available now. My knuckles raise and I knock before I enter because I've learnt the hard way that I should still wait for his summoning.

"Yes?" His deep voice rumbles through the door.

My fingers press to the handle and I step inside. He doesn't even look up when I enter, his eyes are glued to his laptop screen and his greying brows start to furrow at whatever he's reading.

"Hi, dad," I say, shutting the door behind me.

He grunts out a response, still not acknowledging me.

Classic John. Invite you to come have a 'meeting' with you and then not even bother to glance your way when you're on time.

I perch in the chair opposite his desk and rest my elbows on the arms. My eyes wander over his office, it's pretty standard with a few touches of his successes written in gold on a plaque and a trophy that I don't even remember him getting at the back of his cabinet.

His company is successful, I give him that. But it's nothing special.

After what feels like an eternity of his precious time, he finally looks at me. "Ah, Declan," he rests his hands on his desk. "Pleased to see you."

My lips force into a smile. "You too."

His eyes roam over my shirt and he tuts. "Couldn't even wear a blazer and a tie to see your old man?"

"This isn't a college interview," I recoil a little bit but try to recover before he calls me out for being rude in his space. You have to tread on eggshells with him. "It's a casual meeting."

My father leans back in his chair. "Well, how's the project hunting coming?"

I shrug and stare back at him. "Taking my time."

"And why is that?"

"Because I want to make sure that it's something I'm passionate about, something that I'm interested in and I want to value my time with." I respond, sitting up in my chair as his gaze turns to a light scowl.

He hums and I don't like the sound of it. "I'll tell you what Declan, I'll cut you a deal."

My head shakes before he finishes the sentence. "I'm not interested in any deals with you, dad. This is going to be my own project, something I want to do for myself. Nothing to do with you."

I hate the way his lip curls into a devilish gesture and I hate him when he's like this. Always looking like he's conspiring some plan to take down the world with his selfishness.

"You might want to listen to this," he says after a few moments.

A grunt leaves my lips and I shake my head. I don't want to listen but if this is something that's going to haunt me, it's probably something I'll need to bite the bullet and hear.

"What?" I bite out.

"Inheritance from your grandmother."

My blood turns cold and I feel my eyes begin to narrow automatically. "What about it?" I say as calmly as possible.

"Well, you want it. Don't you? She left very precious items you wanted without leaving it in the will."

"And you said you'd give them to me when the will has been claimed."

He breathes out a sharp breath through his nose. "Declan, the will was claimed three weeks after her passing."

"What?" He never told me that.

"So, I'll give you six months, Declan. Six months to make your next big project, or whatever it is you want to do. You show me the profits you can make and I'll consider giving you your grandmother's things." He says with passive kindness.

I'm gritting my teeth so hard that I think they're about to smash. "Why are you playing games with me?"

Now it's his turn to shrug. "Sometimes you need a little competition to keep you focused, to have you set on a goal. Six months, Declan. Let's see what you're made of, ey?"

I stand up from the chair so abruptly that the legs scratch against the wooden floor, barely giving him a second look as I storm out. I don't say another word, not if I want to smash his office to pieces for being a sack of shit.

My grandmother died when I sold the company. Sometimes I can't believe she gave birth to my father who is cold, narcissistic and downright evil. She brought so much light to my life, always told me to do what makes me happy, never stop smiling because one day it might all be gone.

As I leave the building, resisting the urge to punch someone, I draw my phone from my pocket and ring the only logical person that can calm me down right now. I know he doesn't work Fridays either.

"Hey, bro. You good?" He answers on the fourth ring.

I walk directly to my car and slam the door a little too hard. "I've been better," I admit.

Nick hums on the other line. "Dad?"

A scoff falls from my lips. "When isn't it about him?"

"Come over, I'm just making cookies with Elodie." He says before I hear a loud crash on the other end and a little voice saying 'oopsie'.

"I'll be over in ten minutes," I say as I start the engine.

It doesn't take me long to get to my brothers but I tell myself not to drive like a maniac because of my emotions, that I should calm the fuck down if I want to make it there in one peace.

When I'm outside, I take a deep breath and enter Nick's fancy foyer lobby to his apartment. He lives in the fancy part of town that costs a ridiculous amount for a space to live in the posh area.

I knock on the front door to see my brother on the other side, flour and God knows what else on his green t-shirt. He takes one look at my face and winces. "That bad?"

"He's an insufferable human being," I say through my teeth as we enter.

Nick closes the door behind me. "Didn't we already know that since birth?"

"True."

I make my way into the kitchen to find my niece, Elodie, standing on a stool that makes her tall enough to work at the counter. She's equally as covered in flour and muck but God, is she cute.

Her dark brown hair is in two bunchies with multi-coloured hair bands and when she turns to me with those big emerald eyes, I melt.

"Uncle Declan!" She grins brightly.

She jumps down from the stool and charges over to me, I pick her up in my arms and she squeals gently. Then her loud giggle filters through the air and if anything could make me feel an ounce of happiness? It's this child.

"Hello, trouble," I say, perching her on my hip.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, not once stopping her smile.

I hum gently. "Came over to see you and your dad, obviously."

"We're making cookies," she says, pointing towards the mess on the counter. "Daddy let me get pink icing this time."

Nick strolls past us and fixes whatever Elodie did when we were at the door. "I did and I told you it would make a mess."

She shrugs innocently. "But they look pretty."

"You're right, pumpkin, they do."

Nick's a single parent, has pretty much been a single parent since Elodie was born. She's now five. When Nick was twenty-four, his girlfriend at the time, Daniella, fell pregnant with their child. She decided to keep it and Nick was going to be there with her every step of the way, but when Elodie was born–Daniella became an unfit mother.

I won't judge her for the choices she made, I'm only glad that Elodie has such a loving father, he plays both roles just fine. He might struggle with work and finding a nanny but it's all worked out, Elodie is the most perfect little girl and I'm so lucky I get to call that intelligent little woman my niece.

Our father wasn't very happy when Daniella fell pregnant but Nick didn't really have much say in whether the baby would be born or not, but my father wanted her gone. He's always wanted us to take after him, be successful business men and have a life when it's barely worth living.

Nick rarely sees our dad because he has made little to no effort with Elodie.

I don't blame Nick for not giving a shit anymore, he's shown his true colours and when he's on his deathbed, I don't doubt he'll have many regrets when his life is slipping away.

"Els," Nick says. "Why don't you go get your dolls or your iPad and go play over there so me and your uncle can talk? Would that be okay, for a little bit?"

Elodie nods. "Okay, for a little bit."

"Alright, pumpkin for a little bit."

She leaves and walks across the room to where there is a small chair but it makes her look tiny as it consumes her. I glance at my brother and I help him clear away the mess in the kitchen, he smiles at me gratefully. I know how hard it's been for him to bring up a daughter on his own whilst also running his own company.

You can see it on his face, he's exhausted. But when you're a parent, there is no time to be tired. I feel for him but I know being a father to that little girl is totally worth it for him.

"So what happened?" Nick asks.

I explain what he said about our grandmother's inheritance, the items I want. What I have to do to get them. It makes me rage with anger all over again.

Nick folds his arms over his chest and shakes his head. "He's unbelievable. You're not going to do it are you?"

"Gran promised me some of her things but I don't think she managed to write it in her will, if I do this, he said I can have them." I state. "They're things I want dearly, if I don't have them I won't be able to rest."

His eyes remain wide. "He shouldn't be keeping this stuff from you, Declan. He's a lunatic, I can't believe he's trying to blackmail you with this shit. He's actually crazy. I can't."

"I wanted to do a project anyway, nothing has caught my eye with what I want to do but I could do it. In the next six months and make a decent profit, it's doable," I find myself glancing at Elodie who is engrossed in her iPad.

"Don't do it for him, Dec. Please."

My head shakes. "I'm not. I never was. This is for me and Gran's things."

I watch as Nick stares back at me and heaves out a sigh. "Well, I hope it works out. Get what you need and stay as far away from that man as possible. I still can't get over when he used to try and get us to compete against each other, who would be the better son by being more successful? He makes me sick."

"He'll never change."

"And I never want you to stoop to his shitty levels, God only knows that he's got a trick or two up his sleeve at the end of this." Nick huffs out and I hate that he's right. Nothing is ever simple with our father.

I lean on the counter and close my eyes for a brief second. "I guess time will tell, time will tell."

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Read the rest of the book, bonus chapters and the first 11 chapters of the third book in the series!

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Author's Note

Ahhhhh Declan's father is an asshole😌

Also we got to meet Nick and Elodie! What did you guys think?👉🏼👉🏼👉🏼

I'm so excited to share this book, you have no idea!!!🥰

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