Julian was working hard behind the scenes, spreading rumors about my performance as COO, planning to stage a vote of no confidence once I inherited the role. There was also that stupid Ethan-Madison-Chase triangle he was still banging on about, but since that could be easily evaporated—Katie was seconds from dating Ethan, and Mad and I were actually together-together—I concentrated on working my ass off and staying in my own lane. I knew I was going to deal with Julian eventually, but I hoped to drag it out until after Dad had passed away so he wouldn’t be there to see it when I finally tore Julian limb from limb and threw whatever was left of him to the corporate streets, to start from the bottom at some bullshit company because no one in the city would work with him.
I got it. I did. Julian had been blindsided by my existence. Katie and I were a pleasant surprise to Lori and Ronan Black, who didn’t think they were able to conceive. Let me amend—I was a miracle. Katie, a pleasant surprise. My mother had suffered from polycystic ovary syndrome, and the doctors said her chances of falling pregnant were pretty much nonexistent. Julian had spent a good chunk of his childhood believing he was the sole heir to the Black empire. My oopsie appearance when he was ten hadn’t meant much to him at the time, but as he’d grown older, he’d begun to resent me more and more when he’d realized the fortune-and-power pie would need to be shared.
And he definitely did not appreciate the fact I’d proved to be better than him in every single thing we both touched.
After a disastrous day at work, I’d driven Dad back home and sat by his side, but he’d been barely conscious.
By the time I’d left my parents’ house, I’d been too exhausted to go to Mad and extinguish the getting-caught fire we were currently burning in. I’d gone back to my apartment, gotten hammered, left half-apologetic messages to a thoroughly freaked-out Madison, and passed out.
This morning, I was hoping to sort out some of the clusterfuck also known as my life. I sent Madison flowers to her office. The big-ass, expensive kind. Flowers that didn’t say thank you for the casual lay but made no room for doubt I was serious. That way, that Nina chick and Mad’s other colleagues would at least know she wasn’t the flavor of the week.
Throwing money at the Madison problem was the first and last good thing about my morning. As soon as I got into the office, I realized something was amiss. And when I said amiss, I meant my brousin’s sanity.
He was standing in the middle of the office, arms spread, in a crumpled suit with a coffee stain the size of Minnesota, giving frantic directions to every secretary and assistant in sight. People around him looked ashen, scared, downright devastated. A few secretaries and interns cried. What had he done to make everyone’s panties twist? Other than the obvious sin of living and breathing.
I stepped out of the elevator, considering if I should call security or punch him square in the face myself. The latter would mean a lot of legal paperwork, but damn if I wasn’t tempted.
His beady black eyes ran aimlessly in their sockets, like they, too, wanted to escape the man they were in. An assistant handed him a fresh suit, and he raced to the restroom to change. I glanced at Dad’s office. He wasn’t in yet. I took my phone out and sent Mom a text asking if he was okay.
“Mr. Black! I’m so sorry about the news.”
“Mr. Black, I just want you to know if you ever want to talk to anyone, I’m here.”
“Chase—can I call you Chase?—I’ll be keeping your family in my prayers . . .”
I breezed past a herd of blabbering assistants, making my way to my office. I had no fucking clue what they were talking about but was eager to find out right after I consumed my first coffee and turned from zombie to semiconscious. A hand landed on my arm. I looked up from my phone. It was Julian. He was fully dressed in a brand-new suit. That was fast. Did he possess the most useless superpower of all, of getting dressed quickly in public restrooms?
“A word,” he growled.
I stalked into my office and took a seat behind my desk. He followed closely behind. I prided myself on being self-possessed when it came to Julian, but even I had my limits. Something told me I was about to meet those limits today.
“Well?” I powered up my laptop, not sparing him a glance. There was a fresh cup of coffee on my desk, and I took a sip. “Are you waiting for a royal invitation from the Windsors, or can you spit it out before lunch?” I made a show of glancing at my Rolex for emphasis. I noticed he was holding a thick stack of papers in his hand.