Page 3 of Claiming His Throne
“Or it’s the thing that’s going to push us into record-breaking numbers.” I smile at him.
Chapter Two
“It’s ten in the morning.” My dad’s voice has me turning to look at him over the rim of my crystal tumbler.
“It’s 78 outside and hot as fuck.”
“That why you’re drinking at ten in the morning?” he asks.
“No, I just thought we were stating pointless facts.” I shrug.
My father isn’t impressed with my comment. His face is stony and his eyes squint at me. Not a look I’m unaccustomedto receiving. “I want you to help your mother with her event this weekend. She’ll be in today to show the event staff around the ballroom.”
There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my mother, but why the fuck does he want me to help her with this? “Why?”
“Because I asked you, and she’s feeling lost with Frankie gone. Hudson is never home and you’re, well, the only time you come home is for family dinners.”
Guilt eats at me. “Things have been busy,” I say. It’s a lame excuse. I should make more of an effort to visit my mother. My father, I see every day here at the office, but my mom doesn’t come in that much.
“You get on top of the Olive Group?”
The current pain in my fucking ass. The Olive Group is attempting to buy their way into my city. There is no chance in hell I’m going to allow that to happen. They come in, buy up buildings, knock 'em down, and rebuild. The thing I don’t like? The fact that they rebuild fancy fucking offices that retail at high rates. The local business owners would never survive the hit. They wouldn’t be able to afford the rental rate of a new build.
There’s also the fact that our family currently controls the majority of the Las Vegas Strip, and we don’t want or need strangers moving in on our turf. It won’t be good for any of our businesses, legitimate or otherwise.
“I’m on it. No one is talking to them,” I tell my father. “I’ve made sure they all know what’s at stake if they sell to the Olive Group.”
There’s a reason my family is at the top of the food chain in this city. Blood, sweat, and money speak volumes when you’re ruling a kingdom and I’m not afraid to spill any one of those things.
“What time is Mom coming in?” I ask, looking at my watch.
“She’ll be here in about thirty.”
Fuck.
Putting the glass down, I pick up a bottle of water and walk into the adjoining bathroom. Then I grab up my toothbrush, squirt some paste on it, and go about brushing my teeth.
My father stands in the doorway, watching me with a smirk on his face. “Scared of your mama knowing you’re drinking this early in the day, Alfie?”
I’m not scared of my mother. I’m just not in the mood to listen to a lecture about being responsible and looking after my body. My body is just fine. I work out and eat healthy. My liver might be shit with the amount of liquor I consume, but I’m not an alcoholic. I just like whiskey. It helps take the edge off a stressful day.
It might only be ten in the morning, but I’ve been here since ten last night. It’s the end of the work day for me.
“I’m not scared of Mom,” I say around my toothbrush. “I just don’t want to kiss her smelling like a brewery. It’s called respect.” I spit into the sink and rinse my mouth.
“Sure, that must be it,” Dad says. “I’m heading out. Make sure your mother gets whatever she needs for this event.”
I scowl at him. I don’t need to be told to take care of my mother. I will always make sure she gets what she needs. “I’m not a fucking idiot,” I grumble.
“Could have fooled me,” Dad grunts. “Also, check in on your brother sometime today.”
“Why? What’s Hudson done now?” I really don’t have time to babysit his ass.
“He and Aiden went to LA two days ago. He came back with a black eye. Find out what the fuck those idiots got up to.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“I didn’t ask. Besides, he’s more likely to tell you than me. You’re less scary.” Dad laughs.
