Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(16)

My brother sits behind his desk, smashing away at his keyboard with enough force to make it slide forward. “Go away, Todd. I’m busy.”

“Seriously? Tim has been working here for months already, and you still don’t know his name?”

My brother’s head snaps in my direction. “What are you doing here?”

“I came back to clear a few things up with the will.”

His dark brows inch closer together. “And?”

I take the seat opposite him, across from his desk. With a quick flick, I undo the button of my suit to give myself some breathing room. Every time I visit the Kane corporate office, it’s always the same. An oppressive pressure builds in my chest, forcing me to sip more from my flask than usual. The office reminds me of my failure to live up to my last name and the expectations set forth because of who my family is.

It doesn’t matter.

I tap my fingers against my thighs. “You and Rowan need to stay far away from my task.”

“What do you mean?” He leans back in his chair.

“When I stopped by Leo’s office for the updated deed, he dropped a cryptic comment.”

“What did he say exactly?”

I repeat my conversation with Leo.

Declan rises and begins pacing, wearing a hole in the carpet. “What could he mean by interference?”

“I don’t know. When I tried to ask if it had anything to do with my shares, he shut down.”

“Shit.”

“My thought exactly.” The only reason I’m not panicking is because of the steady stream of vodka pumping throughout my system, giving me a false sense of calm.

He runs his hands through his dark hair, mussing the perfectly slicked-back strands. “Grandpa knew I would step in to help you.”

Probably because Declan has always cleaned up my messes ever since I was born. He couldn’t help suffering from an older sibling savior complex, nearly suffocating Rowan and me with his overprotectiveness.

“Whatever you do, don’t help.”

His brown eyes drop to the floor.

“Declan…”

He pulls out his phone, looking paler than usual. “I need to make a few calls.”

Declan’s footsteps quicken as he walks the length of his office.

“You had a buyer lined up already, didn’t you?” My teeth grind together.

“Yes.” His hand holding the phone tightens.

“Why?”

Why couldn’t you trust me to do one thing on my own? The real question lingers on the tip of my tongue.

His jaw clenches, making the vein near his temple throb. “Why else? It’s not like I was going to leave anything up to chance.”

“More like you didn’t want to leave anything up to me.”

He throws his free hand in the air. “Why would I? It’s not as if you’ve made any effort to complete your part of the will. Do you even care about fucking Rowan and me over?”

I bolt out of my chair. “With how little you think of me, maybe I should give up my shares and walk away from this whole damn thing with my dignity intact.”

He releases a bitter laugh. “Of course, that’s your first solution. I don’t know why I expected anything different from the guy who excels at failing.”

“Great dig, asshole. Did you pick that one up from Dad?”

Do you have an interest in being anything but a family failure? The memory of my dad laughing his drunk ass off takes center stage in my head; him shunning my need for a calculus tutor is quickly replaced by a darker memory.

Why am I not surprised that you couldn’t even succeed at hitting a block of rubber around—the harsh words my father shared during my post-op after I tore my ACL.

The only reason you’re on this company board is because your grandpa knew you wouldn’t amount to anything on your own. My father’s red-rimmed eyes flick over my seat in the conference room.

The one thing my father succeeded at was finding a hundred different ways to make me feel like a pathetic failure.

And now Declan…

Fuck him.

“Shit. Cal…” Declan’s glare softens.

Screw Declan for using my one weakness against me. It’s not like I don’t want to be better. To do better.

I just don’t know how.

I shoot him my fakest smile that makes his eye twitch. “No need to apologize, brother. It’s not like I didn’t spend my entire life hearing those same words time and time again.”

Declan’s words follow me long after I leave the Kane Company building, feeding off my insecurities like a parasite that can only be cured with a bottle of vodka.

You could get help again. My hand trembles as I pour myself a drink. Some of it spills from my jerky movement, soaking my hand and the surrounding area around the glass.

I shake my head, ignoring the voice in my head beckoning me to stop before I take the first sip.

Always a disappointment.

I pause as my lips touch the rim of the glass.

You’re better than this.

No. I’m really not.

I knock back the first drink with a few swallows before pouring myself a second glass. Declan tries to call me twice throughout the night. He even leaves a voicemail, which I delete right away because I’m too drunk to care.

Just how I like it.