Page 106 of Forbidden Eyes

I look back at him over my shoulder and finish the last of my signatures, chewing until I’ve swallowed. “I am fucking eating.”

“No, before that. About trust?”

I back off the paperwork and stand upright, not having the first goddamn clue what he’s going on about. He leans back on his desk, arms crossed, and shakes his head. “What the fuck is going on in that head of yours?" Fia is. "You could be giving your life away, signing off Cane to someone else without questioning it. Smarter, Carter. All. The. Goddamn. Time.”

I look back and watch Nate still flipping pages, another signature going below Quinn’s already on the sheets. “What are you talking about, Quinn?”

“Read it first.”

I sigh and pick up the sheets, all fuck knows many of them, and head over to the window for some light. I couldn’t give a damn what I’m signing if he’s signed it first, certainly not if Nate’s happy to sign it, too. Whatever it is, it’ll be in the best interest of this company. Neither of them sign anything if it isn’t, but as I keep flicking the papers and read, I begin to understand what it is that I’m signing.

Executive board. Cane Enterprises.

CEO.

Carter Wade.

As directed by Quinton Cane and Nathan Cane.

My head shoots up from the sheets to look at them both, eyes flicking between them.

“The fuck?”

“We’re restructuring,” Quinn says, smiling. “Because we’re old.”

“You are. I’m not. I’m just tired,” Nate cuts in, finishing his last signature and stretching his back. "Plus, my wife is a witch if she doesn't get enough sun in the year." He heads over to the drinks cabinet, pulling out a bottle of tequila and four shot glasses. “This sits you at the top, Carter, Logan beneath you until he hits thirty. You can argue that point then.”

“But I…” I don’t know what to say.

I look over to Logan, wondering how he feels about this. It’s not like he’s ready yet, but fuck. Cane features stare back at me, neither smiling nor scowling at what’s happening around him. He takes a shot glass from Nate, and before I get a chance to ask any more, Quinn is at my side with another one for me. “You’re welcome.”

“What?” I’m in shock. Can’t think.

“I was saying you’re welcome. For the thanks you should be giving me.”

“I don’t understand.”

He clinks my untouched drink and backs away from me, heading for his desk.

“Well, better start getting up to speed. I’m going on vacation. Tomorrow.”

“You cannot give me all this, Quinn. I'm not even blood.”

He snorts and downs his shot. “Firstly, I’m not. I’m just putting you in charge of it so I can get old without being shot anymore. Emily would prefer it was you if anyone’s getting killed. Not me.”

My eyes widen, my drink still balanced in my hand until I start putting it the fuck down to talk some sense into everyone.

“And secondly, before you talk any more shit at me, you've always been blood, Carter. Always." He holds his finger up, stopping me from interrupting. "I just let you make your own choices. You chose to keep it distant. To me, you're as much mine as Logan. Always have been. Deal with it. And try not to get shot.”

"But…"

“It’s done, Carter. You’ve signed,” Nate says, picking up his things and heading over to me. He clinks his glass on mine, too, downs it, and then snatches the documents from my grasp. “Thank fuck. I’m done. Enjoy Cane life.” He looks at Quinn. “Shall we go?”

Quinn nods.

What the actual fuck is happening here?

“Apparently, Logan knows everything I’ve been up to in South America,” Quinn chuckles, tugging the tie from his neck and chucking it on the floor. “Diamond mining. I’ll leave you to work the rest of it out. Not like you don’t know everything already, and Colombia’s always useful for other ventures if that clean product doesn't come to market soon.” He winks at me, smirking. And then he dumps his dice on his desk, a half hover as he looks at them and tips them to a certain number. “You might need those. I don’t anymore. Or this office.”

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