Page 4 of Wreck Me

Rian is on the cusp of launching his own nightclub chain, turning his passion for partying into a career. At least that’s his plan, anyway. One thing’s for sure, his establishments won’t be stocking O’Connor’s Whiskey.

‘Show a bit of respect to your elders.’ Caelon kicks Rian under the table but his tone is playful.

At thirty-three, I’m the oldest. Caelon’s next, followed by Killian, Sean and Rian. We have a sister, Zara, but she’s too young to attend family meetings yet, even the ones that aren't in high-end clubs with mediocre whiskey.

I slide into the seat next to Killian, my nose crinkling with distaste at the sight of the half-empty bottle of liquor. ‘Why doesn’t the most opulent gentlemen’s club in Dublin stock our whiskey? I thought this was supposed to be a classy establishment.’

‘Shouldn't you know that?’ Caelon pipes up, lifting hisglass to his lips. ‘Given you’re the CEO and father’s prize protégé.’ His eyes glow with amusement.

‘You won’t be either of those things for much longer if you don’t turn things around.’ Sean pours me a double from the bottle.

‘It was a bit of bad press, that’s all.’ I take a swig of whiskey and wince.

‘Bad press? It’s a sex scandal.’ Caelon swirls his drink around his glass. ‘You were caught with your cock out with three members of your own staff for christ’s sake.’

I blow out a breath. ‘They were willing participants in a consensual act.’

‘You’re the fucking CEO, James. You pay their wages.’ Killian annunciates every word gruffly.

‘I had no idea who they were. I’ve never met anyone in the UK marketing division.’ I inhale sharply. ‘We were simply celebrating the new year in style in Dubai.’

‘On the company jet!’ Irritation blazes in Sean’s black eyes. ‘And then you invited them on to the company yacht for an orgy. You didn't even attempt to be discreet.’

‘Is it technically an orgy if there’s only two people having intercourse?’ I force my lips to kick up in a smile, though truly, there’s nothing funny about the situation.

I fucked up. I blame the alcohol. And boredom. And, let’s be honest, I was lonely. Not that I’m looking for a relationship or anything serious. Hell, no! The last time I let a woman into my heart, as well as my bed, she didn't just break it, she snapped it clean in half. I’m not taking that risk again.

But a man has needs. He can’t live on water, or whiskey alone. And that’s the root of the problem. I seem to have developed this reputation as some kind of playboy. Which sounds fun, until it impacts the business. I have a nasty feeling that unless I turn things around, everything’s going to come crashing down around my ears.

‘When your other two employees are drinking company whiskey and watching you fuck whilst touching themselves, then yes it’s an orgy.’ Killian interjects.

Killian, of all my brothers, says the least, so his frustration speaks volumes.

‘What did you expect?’ Sean splutters. ‘You were on the top deck of a multimillion euro yacht with our family fucking name emblazoned on the side. In case you forgot, Dubai is a Muslim country. You were blatantly disrespectful and bang out of order.’

‘We expect that sort of behaviour from him,’ Caelon nods towards a smirking Rian, ‘but not from you. Even he keeps his dick in his pants in public, at least.’

‘Okay, it wasn't my finest moment.’ The truth is, New Year’s Eve is my least favourite night of the year. All that fresh start bullshit. Blah blah blah.

I have everything a man could want in life; a high-powered career, more money than I could spend in several lifetimes, a family who cares deeply about me, but sometimes… sometimes I wonder about the point of it all.

My life has been mapped out for me from the day I was born.

Where’s the fun in that?

‘What has my little indiscretion got to do with you lot anyway?’ I palm the stubble dotting my jawline.

Caelon dusts off some imaginary lint from his immaculately tailored suit. ‘All of our businesses bear the Beckett name and your behaviour is making a fucking mockery of it.’

Candice, one of the servers, approaches the table dressed in transparent chiffon lingerie. She brandishes a bottle of Dom Perignon and five champagne flutes. ‘A welcome gift from Christopher.’

Huh. More ass-kissing from that creep.

Rian beams at the bottle of champagne like it’s his fucking birthday.

‘Can I offer you anything else?’ Candice leans across the table to place the bottle in the centre, pushing her tits up higher. Three sets of eyes follow as her breasts almost burst from beneath the flimsy fabric. ‘Some company perhaps?’

I say three sets of eyes because Caelon never looks. He’s ridiculously happily married to his childhood sweetheart, Isabella. Even after fifteen years, he only has eyes for her.

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