The financial district of Manhattan was filled with sky-scrapers, bustling frowning people, and a range of smells strong enough to give Jon a headache. Not that he was expected to walk the streets, of course. Dirk’s imposing black town car was waiting for them at the airport and then again when they left Dirk’s oversized apartment. Jon’s inner snark wondered if Dirk ever did anything for himself, given the range of people who’d fallen over themselves to attract his mate’s attention since they flew into J.F.K. airport.
It was no better when they got to Dirk’s Office. From the outside, it had a discreet entrance; the type only old money could achieve. Nothing but a brass plaque on the door and the two sturdy security guards just inside the door indicated the wealth represented. That all changed once they took the elevator, private, to the penthouse office.
Deep red carpet, thick enough for Jon’s boots to sink into; graphically carved wood panels graced the walls. A large, imposing reception desk barred the entrance to Dirk’s office but the chair in front of it was empty. Dirk frowned as he noticed, but he carried on through to his inner sanctum. Apart from greeting the guards on his arrival, he hadn’t said a word; the harsh set of his shoulders warning off the most sickening of sycophants. But Jon noticed the widening eyes and whispered comments from suit-clad underlings who disappeared down long corridors and into quiet offices. It seemed Dirk’s arrival caused quite a stir, which caused Jon to wonder just what had been discussed around the water cooler.
“I was hoping Bryce would be here,” Dirk said as he ushered Jon into the office. “I need to know what the hell’s been going on in my absence and who….” He broke off as someone knocked forcefully on the door.
“Or maybe, someone’s come to tell you all about it already.” Jon took a seat in the corner behind Dirk’s desk. “I’ll text Bryce, you answer the door. It’s okay, I’ll be quiet,” he added with a grin.
“Just please try not to take offense at anything that might be said. I have no idea what shit my family has been spreading in here,” Dirk sat behind his desk and called for whoever it was to enter.
“Byron,” he greeted the newcomer who strode into the office as though he owned it. Dragon, Jon noted. Suppressed dragon. Someone else who’d pissed off his animal half and if looks were any indication, Byron was family. Not as tall as Dirk, not half as imposing, but Byron had similar bone structure to his mate and the same surly attitude.
“I can’t believe you came back here,” Byron snarled, slamming the office door. “After your thing attacked father, I’m amazed you dared to show your face,” he waved his arm in Jon’s direction; something Jon ignored. He was busy on his phone.
“Jon, meet Byron Hollingsworth, my younger brother. Byron, this is Jon Erskine, my mate.” Jon waved a hand but didn’t look up. Byron wasn’t about to play nice so Jon didn’t see the point in trying. He was grinning at Bryce’s text. Is grumpy bum ready to grovel yet?
I think so. You’re needed at the office, Jon replied.
Just grabbing coffee. Be there in five. Jon wasn’t surprised Bryce followed them to New York. He knew the bond between Dirk and Bryce was solid, even if Dirk could act like an ass at times. He’d been gutted leaving Essie behind, although she was still managing his office in San Jose.
“He can’t even be bothered to acknowledge me,” Byron raged. “I am on the board of directors in this company and I insist he be barred from this building.”
“I’m sorry.” Jon stood and slipped his phone in his pocket. The scale over his heart burned under his shirt as he flexed his shoulders. “Was I meant to acknowledge your insulting behavior? I thought I was doing you a favor by ignoring it.”
“You attacked my father.” If looks could kill, Jon would be six feet under.
Jon moved over to stand by Dirk’s desk. “Are you referring to the incident where I protected myself when your father sent two goons to kill me? I seem to recall he left our meeting shaken but unharmed, which is more than I can say about you if you don’t back down.” He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. Self-entitled guys like Byron were a dime a dozen in his business and he’d never backed down yet.
“Did you hear that? He’s threatening me now.” Byron glared at his brother. “You can’t have him here. Either he goes, or I go.”
Dirk didn’t even bother to stand up. He simply pointed at the door. “You know the routine. Make sure your things are out of the building within the hour. Leave your passkey and files in your office. You won’t be needing the company car, so leave the keys for that, too. Take only your personal possessions; make sure they are all cleared out. You won’t be allowed back. You need to be out of Manhattan by nightfall.”
“I’m family.” Byron’s mouth flapped like a fish. “You can’t do this. I’m on the board. You can’t fire me.”
“As owner of this company, I can fire whoever the hell I want,” Dirk explained calmly. “And you must have a very short memory because you weren’t fired. You quit because you object to my mate’s presence. Now apologize to Jon, or get out.”
Jon wouldn’t smirk. That would be petty, but watching Byron struggle; trying to work out how serious his brother was, was amusing.
There was a quick knock at the door and Bryce came in. “Not interrupting, am I? Jon.” He opened his arms. “I see our illustrious leader has managed to drag you away from sunny California. It’s good to see you.”
Byron turned, interrupting Bryce’s welcome. “You were with Dirk on his trip. We heard Dirk was extremely ill; so bad a doctor had been called. Tell me, has that same doctor given him a clearance to return to work? I’m concerned about his mental competence.”
Dirk growled, but it seemed Bryce didn’t let men like Byron bother him, either. “As you can see, Dirk is perfectly healthy,” Bryce came over to stand on the other side of Dirk’s desk. “Our boss fell ill because he refused his mating after he saw and scented Jon. Now they’ve worked out any little issues they might have had, he’s stronger than ever. I have the Griffin’s report if you want to see it. He agrees, now Dirk has claimed his fated mate, there will be no recurrence of the problem.”
“I don’t believe in this fated mate crap,” Byron turned back to Dirk. “Maybe you got too much sun in California. Maybe, as father said, you’ve been bewitched. I strongly suggest, on behalf of the board, that you see one of our healers before you make any decisions impacting the company.”
“I am getting damn sick of people questioning my abilities,” Dirk growled. “Am I, or am I not, the oldest son?”
“Yes.” Byron didn’t look pleased about that and Jon wondered if he suffered from Middle Child Syndrome.
“Did father resign and hand over the company to me a year ago? For me to do with it as I wanted after the years I slaved in this place working my way up from the mail room?”
“Yes, but that was on the condition you’d marry a female dragon. Not drag some mutt in here and try and pass him off as a mate,” Byron said quickly.
“That marriage might have been implied around the dinner table but it’s not in my contract.” Dirk reached into his drawer and pulled out a thick document. “This is the contract I signed. Recognize it?” He ruffled through the pages. It was a hefty document. “It outlines my extensive responsibilities to the family, to the European branch, and to this company’s clients. It contains no mention of my personal life whatsoever, or who I will or will not marry. Note, there is also no termination clause and my contract will remain in effect until such time as I decide to retire, sell the company, or pass it on to my appointed heir when the time comes.” He pointed to the last page. “You signed this, as Father’s representative, along with the other members of the board. It’s ironclad and absolute.”
“But it does have a provision about an heir,” Byron said eagerly, coming forward and flicking through the pages. “There. ‘In continuance with family tradition’,” he read from the document, “’Dirk Hollingsworth, shall, at his discretion and not before the first fifty years from the date of this contract, pass on the mantle of company ownership to his legal heir.’ You’re not likely to have an heir with him.”
“A legal heir does not have to be a blood relative,” Jon decided Byron’s antics had gone on long enough. They had more important things to do, like find out who was stealing from the company. His fingers were itching for his laptop. “Dirk can choose anyone he likes to inherit the company. It doesn’t even have to be a dragon.”
“No.” Byron turned the document around, flicking through the pages madly. “Father wouldn’t have…he….”
“That’s the problem with using these ancient documents,” Bryce observed winking at Jon. “They make a lot of assumptions, which have nothing to do with the way a modern business is run, and ignore the fact society evolves constantly. I don’t know what it’s like in the European office, but here same sex couples are becoming more widely acceptable and concepts like surrogacy and adoption are commonplace. An heir is never going to be a problem.”
“Besides,” he added, flicking back to the paragraph Byron had read out. “It says here that Dirk has to be in his position for at least fifty years before that even becomes an issue. It’s a bit rude trying to push your boss on a decision about that now when the ink’s barely dry on the contract.”
“You think you’re so clever,” Byron snarled. “But we’ll see what happens when the board hears about this. I’ll convene an emergency meeting and have you declared unfit to rule.”
“There’s no provision for that in the contract. You don’t have the right,” Dirk said, apparently happy to let his friends cover for him. “Besides, didn’t you quit? I am still waiting to hear you apologize to my mate.”
For a moment Byron seemed nonplussed but then his eyes narrowed and Jon felt a shiver run down his spine. “I will never apologize to a dog for anything,” he said firmly. “However, under section fifteen, sub paragraph two of your contract, I am invoking the family right to challenge. As the next brother in line, it is my right.”
“It is your right, indeed.” If anything, Dirk sounded bored about the whole idea, while Jon’s protective instincts were flooding his body. “Call the others. Our brother and cousins. We’ll do this now.”
Byron gulped. Perhaps he hadn’t thought Dirk would take him seriously. “Now? But don’t you need time to prepare? You’ve been sick. I won’t have it said I was taking advantage of your ill health.”
“I’ve been kicking your ass for three hundred years. I hardly need any preparation to do it again.” Dirk stood up and removed his jacket. “However, once I have beaten you, and I will, then under sub paragraph four of the same contract, you will leave the city immediately, forfeit all rights to any bonuses, payouts, or income from this company, and your hoard is mine. Understood?”
Silly fool really should have read the fine print, Jon thought, falling into step with his mate as they left the office. Byron looked as if he were heading for his execution and Jon wondered how far these challenges went. The scale on his heart glowed softly and he felt a warmth run through his body. Even in the face of a challenge, Dirk’s dragon took the time to comfort him. Jon hummed quietly, reflecting at how happy that made him feel.