Page 22 of Titus

My gaze shifted past the glass’s reflection and landed exactly where it had the moment I walked in: Jameston’s building. Positioned just in front of mine, almost as if it were built to be close enough to piss me off, yet far enough to make a statement.

“What do you know about the bastard declining our offer?” I questioned without turning back to my brother.

Colton exhaled quietly, setting the tablet down. “Most likely the same as you. They declined the offer without even running it through valuation.”

“Interesting that they didn’t counter,” I said.

“As if he knew it was us.”

I nodded slowly. “Then, it’s obvious that they’re not negotiating.”

“No,” Colton softly chuckled. “It’s more like they’re cock-blocking.”

I turned slightly at that, studying him for a moment before shifting my attention back to the skyline.

“Not just that,” I responded. “It’s as if they were anticipating it.”

“So, you agree that he knew it was you?”

“The fucker had to know.”

Three times market value didn’t get declined by accident. And it didn’t get declined quietly. This was calculated and personal.

I crossed back toward the desk, resting my hands briefly against the edge as I let the thought settle.

“This isn’t about the building,” I said.

“No,” Colton agreed. “It’s not.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

Colton didn’t answer right away, and he didn’t need to. I already fucking knew this was retaliation. For something in our past, tied to a mistake Lowell Jameston had made. Before or after my father’s death? Who the fuck knew?

What I did know was this—it pissed me the hell off, and I wasn’t about to get caught off guard by whatever these bastards had planned after following me to the West Coast.

“Mr. Hawk,” Elizabeth came over the intercom of my office.

I frowned, knowing she would never interrupt a meeting with my brother unless it was important.

“Go ahead,” I said, eyes fixed on my brother’s concerned ones.

“Are we expecting anyone?” he mouthed while Elizabeth spoke.

“Christian Jameston is requesting a meeting with you?”

I smiled at my brother. It was as if the fly had flown into my web this morning all by itself. “Send him in.”

“Right away, sir,” she answered.

Within seconds, my door swung open, revealing Christian Jameston stepping into my office as if he belonged there. Uninvited, unbothered, and confidently arrogant enough to believe this scenario made him untouchable.

“Hawk,” he said smoothly, his gaze sweeping the room as if he were taking inventory of everything I’d built. “I thought I’d stop by and personally congratulate you.”

I remained standing, staring at him as he paraded into my office like a damn peacock. “On what?” I finally answered.

His smile edged slightly, like he’d expected that response from me.

“This building, of course,” he said, gesturing loosely around him. “It’s quite impressive.” He frowned as if searching for words. “Imposing,” he finished with the same smile of a disgusting snake.