Page 27 of Two of a Kind
It was an effort not to growl out a response. It wasn’t the guy’s fault Spencer had been played like a pawn in his father’s self-serving chess game.
Spencer nodded curtly as he headed for the express elevator up to the executive offices on the top floor. Shoving his digital key card into the slot, he forced himself to take a deep, cleansing breath. When confronting Tristan Dumas, he had to keep his emotions under tight control. Any crack in his defenses would be seen as a weakness, and weakness was not to be tolerated.
He was pissed, though. Beneath the controlled mask he wore, his blood was simmering. Not because his father had tried to manipulate him. No, he was used to that. What really bothered him was that his father believed he could be swayed into changing his mind by a flash of rich, pampered pussy. Did his father really think his dick held more sway over his head when it came to business?
He had known who was behind Chelsea’s sudden appearance from the moment he saw her lounging seductively in his room. It was a classic Dumas’ move; the wealthy powerbroker’s version of catching flies with honey as opposed to vinegar. Like when Spencer thought to go to Princeton instead of his father’s alma mater, Harvard. A “recruiter” had shown up in a Ferrari, promising all kinds of “bonuses” if he changed his mind. Or when his father had convinced him that Maggie Flynn’s land was critical to the future of DI and had dangled that executive promotion, a corner office, and a three-time Penthouse centerfold model as a full-time personal assistant in front of his face.
Okay, so maybe there was some precedent there for being swayed into seeing his father’s side of things.
But not this time.
Spencer stormed into his father’s office, ignoring the harried administrative assistant’s pleas to stop, to wait, informing him that an important meeting was in progress. He didn’t give a shit.Hewas the fucking CEO. If there was an “important meeting,” he had every right to be there.
Familiar faces, men who were more like uncles than strangers, turned at his entry. Some held sympathetic looks. Others looked just as smug, just as arrogant as his father.
“I’ll meet up with you on the links,” the elder Dumas said, calling an end to whatever unholy scheme they were plotting next.
Spencer waited until they had all shuffled away, mumbling greetings as they passed. Some patted his shoulder, just like they had when he was a boy. They were powerful men in their own right—senior board members, a state senator, a judge—but that kind of success always came with a price tag. There wasn’t one among them who didn’t owe some debt to the man now glaring disapprovingly at him from across the office.
“What the hell is that?” Spencer asked, tossing the tablet displaying his engagement announcement onto his father’s massive Bubinga wood desk.
The chairman of the board glanced at it, then went to the small bar against the wall and poured them each a few fingers of fine whisky. “I would think it is quite obvious. It is the official announcement of your engagement to Chelsea Chamberlain.”
“I told you,” Spencer said tightly, “that I am not marrying her.”
“And I’m telling you,” his father said, holding out a glass, “that you do not have a choice. As CEO of this company, its welfare must be your first priority. A merger with Chamberlain Corporation is the best possible scenario for everyone involved.”
“Not for me.”
“You’re being selfishly obdurate. Chelsea Chamberlain is a beautiful, smart, refined woman. What’s the problem?”
The problem was, she was like every other coddled princess he had ever known—cold, self-absorbed, and only interested in using him as a stepping stone to obtain more money, more power, and higher social standing.
Except Vexy. Vexy had no idea who he was or the size of his bottom line. She had just wanted him.
But she used you, too, didn’t she?a small voice sounded in his head.Wrapped your dick up in knots, then left without so much as a goodbye fuck.
We used each other, he corrected his petulant ego.And had she still been there when it was time for me to leave, I would have done the same. Walking away is a Dumas gold standard move.
He wasn’t about to tell any of that to his father, though. The old man would find some way to turn Vexy into a vulnerability, a weakness. Instead, he looked his father right in the eye and said, “I don’t care for her.”
His father laughed. Actually laughed. “Care for her? Don’t be so naïve. This isbusiness. Love has nothing to do with it. Hell, you don’t even have to like her. Just marry her. Keep up public appearances, create an heir with her, and fuck whoever you want behind closed doors.”
“Maybe that’s why you’ve been divorced five times? Or is it six now? I can’t keep track.”
A muscle ticked in his father’s jaw. “The topic is no longer up for discussion, Spencer. Marry Chelsea.”
“Or ...?” Spencer challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Or ...” his father replied with eerie calmness, “the board will have no choice but to find a new CEO, one who will not hesitate to do what is required of him.”
Spencer’s hands clenched into fists. While his father had hinted here and there with similar veiled threats before, he had never come right out and laid it on the line like that. “You wouldn’t.”
“Your brother Phillip would give anything to be where you are right now.”
“Half-brother,” Spencer corrected. “And he’s an idiot.”
“An idiot who does what he is told,” his father said pointedly, then turned to the huge wall of glass that had a stunning view of the surrounding mountains, signaling the end of the conversation. “You have until the next board meeting to make your decision. Do not disappoint me again.”
