Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
I’m twenty-nine, Pop’s namesake, and I’m inches away from taking over the family business. This is how we feed and protect ourselves and the ones who count on us. We take that seriously. If people borrow money, they have to pay their debts. We prefer cash as our currency of choice, of course, but sometimes creative financing comes into play when someone can’t pay.
My family may be wealthy, but I’ve earned my stripes, too. Pop didn’t believe in sticking a silver spoon in my mouth when he had to claw his way up. He made sure I had to do the same. He calls it character-building. My brother and I both call him a hard ass.
I started at the bottom at fourteen and worked my way up, buying my own condo with cash I earned by the time I was nineteen. I’ve done hard work. Dirty work. No one can say that I don’t legit deserve to sit in my father’s chair when that day comes.
Sitting in my father’s office and getting told he was handing over a flesh payment on a debt to me was intriguing, to say the least. I’d never seen him take this kind of payment before.
Telling me I could do “whatever” was a game. My father wanted me to keep her for myself. My cock twitched looking at her photo. Long, silky-looking chestnut brown hair, big jade green eyes, beautiful skin, full lips, fit yet curvy. Soft-looking.
“Why are you letting the guy pay like this? This isn’t our style. There’s more to it. Spill.”
Pop shrugged. “This was my choice, not his. Too many questions, Tommy. Just think of it as a gift. A bonus for all your hard work. Look at her.”
He pushed the picture closer. My Pop didn’t like questions, that was for damn sure. I guess I inherited that quality from him. But, I needed to know the details, particularly because he was probably only a few key decisions away from retiring. He didn’t look ready to retire; he’s only in his mid-fifties and looks like he’s forty. But Pop worked hard to build his empire and says he wants to reap the fruits of that labor before he’s too old to fully enjoy it.
“What kind of guy gives his daughter up for debts? The debt is measly,” I said.
He looked reflective and a long moment passed.
“Pop?”
“I bought his debt. There’s history. Long family history. This guy! He…” He waved his hand. “He was like one of those, what do you call… fan girls. He tried to crawl up all our asses and worm his way into the business. He was always a liability, so he didn’t get the time of day. He disrespected me many years ago. He took something from me. He paid a price. But I don’t know that his price was enough.” He tapped his temple with his index finger. “And some nights I still lay awake thinking about what he took from me. This daughter, she’s all he’s got of any value. And look at her. I’m thinking she’s young, she’s beautiful, you could make her yours. Marry her, maybe. Your call, I know, but that’s what I think. It’d be a shame to put her to work or sell her off. I saw opportunity. I acted. Two birds, one stone. Pay this guy back by taking his last thing of value. Take her to pay his paltry debt and help our family move forward.”
He shrugged like it was no biggie, but was looking at me studiously. I could see it was a big deal.
I shook my head, exasperated. This was Pop’s way. He was telling me this Tia could be mine to do with what I wanted, dropping his suggestion of “marry her, maybe” was his way of suggesting it without outright demanding it. If I didn’t, he’d be disappointed. People know better than to disappoint my father. I also know bonuses aren’t in his vocabulary, so he isn’t giving her to me as a bonus. He’s got plans. But, my father knows better than to tell me what to do outright. When he really wants me to do something, he does it like this.
“Married, Pop? Who says I’m ready to get married?”
“Tommy, my boy, you’re almost thirty. By your age I had a couple kids and was on my second wife. You don’t truly become a man until you start a family of your own. A family man needs to take over the company. You decide who you marry, of course, and this girl, she’s part Irish, half Italian. She’s beautiful and she’s young. She can be molded into what you need her to be. Taking a wife don’t mean you can’t still have your fun, my boy.”
“I’ll think it over.”
This was the best way to handle my father. He’d nudged about me getting married, but never this bluntly. I’d been prepped and primed to take over this company ever since I could remember. He’d drilled a lot into my head over the years and I’d jumped through hoops to prove I was worthy. Not just to him, also to myself.