They say the past makes a person. Defines who they are. Molds and shapes them into who they’ll become.

I say fuck the past.

The past is dead to me.

Just like both my parents.

I feel like every passing moment is a drop in the bucket that will fill and overflow one day. That bucket is your wealth. The goddamn future. I want mine so full, it drowns out everyone around me.

Until then, I drop, drop, drop.

“Camden!” Mateo booms from his office.

I step into the room and regard the man—the very man I always assumed was perfect in every way compared to my father. Now, I realize every man has secrets. Even Mateo. Mateo Bonilla is a dirty old man. Not like some dirty men I know, just your typical old guy hooking up with younger women to make himself feel better. He married once for love, but his first wife died from cancer. Next time he ties the knot will be purely for his ego.

His fiancée is twenty years his junior.

And my old babysitter.

I stifle a snort and regard my father’s longtime friend with a wide grin. “Uncle Teo.”

He stands and rounds his massive desk to pull me in for a hug. For a moment, I relax and take it for what it is. Mateo, despite who he’s going to marry, is still good. He would never hurt me. I wish I could say the same.

Sometimes, those drops in the bucket splash onto others like acid. Collateral damage. I have a slight pang in my chest, but after years of learning how to control my emotions out of necessity, I push away the weak moment.

Some things are necessary.

Hurting Mateo is necessary.

“How’s college treating you, kiddo?” he asks as he pulls away and tugs at my necktie.

I chuckle and step away from him, already over the nearness to another man and needing some breathing room. “Easy,” I say, shrugging. “How’s working for my big brother?”

He rolls his eyes and nods his head to the right where Hayden’s office is. “We don’t work for him, punk. We work with him. You know that. And for the record, Trevor and Hayden still butt heads.”

No surprise there.

The evidence suggested Trevor didn’t sleep with our mom and conceive my brother Nixon, but not everyone believed the evidence. Especially not my oldest brother, Hayden. At one point, I swear, he was prepared take that piece of the past to his grave and then obsess over it well into eternity.

I, on the other hand, don’t care.

Nixon is my brother, and that’s all that matters to me. Our mother was a cheating whore. End of story.

“I’ll talk to him.” I tilt my head to the side and lift my brow slightly. My talks come with a price. Everyone knows this. Question is, are they willing to pay it?

He huffs. “Don’t worry about it. Even you, master mediator, could never fix their beef. They’ll get over it at the next get together. Lucy and Katie can be quite persuasive when they tag team them.” Mateo takes his seat and leans back in it, threading his fingers together. “What can I do for you today? Not every day I get a visit from you.”

I smirk and walk over to his desk. While he waits for my response, I pick up the framed picture of him and his fiancée. The little boy inside me looks for any indication on her pretty face that she’s just like him. The monster from long ago. But her smile is bright, albeit fake. Everything about her these days is fake.

Takes one to know one, I suppose.

“I’m going to be POTUS one day,” I tell him with a cocky grin.

He laughs. “So you’ve been telling me since you were a kid.”

I set down the picture, and meet Mateo’s amused stare. “I need an internship.”

His brows furl together. “You’re only a college freshman. Enjoy yourself a bit, son.”

My shoulders tense, and I give him a slight shake of my head. Absently, I adjust my Jaeger LeCoultre Duometre Q6042422 watch on my wrist. This thing set me back over thirty grand. “You know I never enjoy myself.” My words come out more bitter than I intend. Mateo is one of the few people I can be myself around, and that’s a dangerous problem to have. Straightening my spine, I flash him an easy grin. “Planning for my future is my way of fun. You know this.”

He chuckles. “I wish we had your work ethic around here. I mean, we could take you on as an intern. I’m sure the guys would be okay with that—”

“Not here,” I interrupt. “Interning at Four Fathers Freight won’t help my political career.” I motion to the picture on his desk. The one of him and Poppy Beckett. “Now, interning with an attorney running for lieutenant governor would. Especially considering she’s the daughter of Tampa’s sitting mayor. A lot of information could be gleaned from someone like her.”

Understanding flickers in his eyes and he nods. Too easy, old man. Too fucking easy.

“I’ll run it by Poppy tonight over dinner,” he says as he stares at her picture. “And if you don’t have anywhere to be, perhaps it would be better for you to dine with us.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “She can’t tell us no if you’re sitting right there. She’s too polite for that.”

“She used to tell me no all the time when she’d babysit me and my brothers,” I challenge.

He chuckles. “Poppy has grown up a lot since then. You’re not asking to stay up past your bed time or if you can have ice cream. We’re asking for a favor for the future president of the United States. We’ll persuade her.” His phone rings on his desk, distracting him. “My condo at seven. See you there.”

I stare at the photo a second longer. Wide blue eyes. Silky blonde hair. Perfection just waiting to be destroyed. I’m coming for you, Poppy, and you won’t tell me no because I have a way of making people say yes.

“Adam,” Mateo booms into his phone. “How’s my daughter?”

I slip out of his office and walk past Trevor’s office. He’s muttering numbers, and it comforts me. Reminds me of Nixon. He seems preoccupied, so I walk over to the boardroom where I can hear voices. Levi and Hayden are going at it. Yelling and making threats at each other. I smirk as I keep on walking.

Dad would be so proud.

Hayden takes no shit. He’s the controlling partner with majority shares. It’s in his nature to remind the other partners of that every chance he gets. My brother runs FFF like a Pearson.

Unyielding. Diabolical. Powerful.

* * *

I nod at the doorman, Ted, on my way into Mateo’s building. Ted has six daughters and works two jobs just to keep a roof over their heads. The doorman job at the fancy-as-fuck condo is just a front for his side job: dealing cocaine to half the folks who live here. I know this because I know everything. You never know when you might need a favor from someone like Ted. Alibies are important. And under duress, I could make Ted vouch on my behalf if need be.

The key to power is making sure you hold all of it.

Every little drop.

Once inside the elevator, I take a look at my appearance. Dad may not have tried very hard to teach us much, but I was always watching and listening. Dad was powerful because he dressed and acted the part. Every day without fail. So each day, I don my expensive timepieces, wear my custom-made suits, and do one better than my father.

I smile.

I make them eat out of my hand because they want to, not because they have to.

That is where my dear old dad failed.

Intimidation worked for him—until it didn’t. In the end, his intimidation is what got him killed by our neighbor. He pushed and pushed and pushed, never expecting to get pushed back.

But me?

I want to pull.

I want to pull everyone in and make them mine. Mine to do my bidding. Mine to control. Mine to conquer. I just want them to make that decision. Forcing them doesn’t work for my agenda.

The elevator doors open with a ding. A young woman with dark brown hair and a toddler on her hip glares at me. She doesn’t belong here. We both know this. Only one of us despises that fact. The other is unaffected.

I give her a slight nod and smile at the kid. He’s cute and doesn’t deserve to feel like an outsider. As I pass them, I rumple his hair. Maybe I’m the only person who will. Everyone needs to have their hair rumpled.

Walking down the ornate hallway, I find Mateo’s unit. When I knock on the door, he wrenches it open. His lips are pursed, and he seems frazzled.

Does Poppy know her world is about to be turned upside down?

What has he told her?

He forces a smile. “Great. You’re here. We were just talking about you.”

“I’m often a topic of great conversation,” I jest.

This time, his grin is genuine. “Come on in.”

I walk past him into his home. Poppy hasn’t had an opportunity to color his muted grays and whites. Ever since his daughter moved away and got married, he lives like a typical bachelor. His decorating style is much like Hayden’s at the loft we share. Simple. Modern. Boring. Soon, I’ll figure out how Poppy decorates her space. If it’s anything like the foul-mouthed, knee-high-sock-wearing, messy-blonde-bun girl who used to babysit us from time to time, I imagine her home is filled with color.

A person can pretend all they want, but their home is where you discover who they really are.

We walk through his immaculate living room to the kitchen. Poppy, still wearing a rose-colored suit from a day at the office, stands in front of the stove. Her dirty blonde hair has been curled into prissy locks. I crave to run my fingers through them and destroy the perfection.

Soon, Cam.

Mateo, clearly on edge, clenches his jaw and frowns at Poppy. “I’ll crack open some wine. Poppy, say hello to our guest.” She tenses slightly, but I don’t miss it. As soon as Mateo leaves the kitchen, she turns to regard me.

My, Poppy, you’ve turned into quite the sophisticated lady.

She doesn’t smile or laugh. Not like when she’d sit on top of my kitchen island with college textbooks strewn about and her attention on her cell phone. Back then, it was a wonder how she even passed college. She spent more time yapping to her friends and planning their next outing rather than studying.

Her father must be so proud she’s long since turned into this rather than that.

“You’re too young for wine,” she clips out in greeting, her nostrils on her pert nose flaring.

My lips tilt up on one side. I knew she’d be my biggest challenge yet. “You’re no longer my babysitter.”

She smooths out nonexistent wrinkles on her suit skirt. “According to Mateo, I am.”

I raise a brow and lean my hip against the counter before crossing my arms over my chest. Her eyes are jerky as she skims them over me to size me up. I’m no longer the little boy who begged for attention and sweets and a motherfucking friend.

I’m Camden Pearson.

And I’m about to fuck her world.

I’m going to wring it dry and fill up my bucket with everything that was in hers.

“I can be a good boy,” I tell her, flashing a wicked smile.

My dick twitches when her cheeks flame bright red. Her slender fingers come up, and she nervously twirls a strand of her hair—a mannerism I remember when she’d actually be studying. Her engagement ring, too large for her dainty finger, glimmers in the overhead light.

“I don’t have time to mentor you,” she says with a huff. “Mateo knows this. My plate is too full. And don’t you have college courses to worry about?”

I stand up straight and take a step toward her. As though my presence alarms her, she takes a step back, her ass hitting the front of the stove. She yelps in surprise and turns the dials off.

“You don’t have to teach me anything,” I say lowly, letting my eyes drift down to her neck where a strand of pearls hugs her creamy flesh. “All you have to do is let me watch.” Our stares meet. Hers is shocked. Mine is hot. Images of her naked and touching herself are forefront in my mind. She must read them just as I intended. Her pouty pink lips part open.

“Camden,” she admonishes.

“Yes, Miss Beckett?”

She darts her gaze to the doorway behind me, her chest rising and falling with each breath she takes. “Call me Poppy,” she snips. “And I haven’t said yes.”

I bite on the inside corner of my mouth and lift a knowing brow. “You’ll say yes.”

Her cheeks flame crimson once more. “You should be studying for school,” she says weakly.

“I’ll manage. I can handle more than one activity at once.” I grin as I make a show of checking out her tits, then sliding down the rest of her body. When I look back up at her, her throat is bright red as well.

“This is…you can’t…” she trails off.

“You’ll let me,” I rumble.

Mateo returns, carrying a bottle of wine. He raises a brow at me, and I shake my head.

“I’m not twenty-one yet,” I tell him. “I’ll have water.”

Mateo chuckles. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Nah, I’ll pass.”

“You’re a good boy,” Mateo says with a laugh.

I raise a cocky eyebrow at Poppy, loving the way her cheeks turn redder. “See? Even your fiancé agrees. Is Monday at eight sharp okay? I can get out of class that day. You know you want to say yes.”

Mateo laughs. “He’s hard to tell no.”

She turns abruptly to tend to the food on the stove, hiding her expressive red skin from me. “Fine. Eight sharp. I won’t put up with any shenanigans.”

“I’m not ten anymore, Poppy, and if I misbehave, you can punish me. Right, Uncle Teo?”

“Right,” he agrees with amusement. “But he won’t need punishing. Hell, soon, you’ll be rewarding him. Only one of Eric’s boys who ever turned out right.”

“I’ll have that wine now,” she utters to Mateo.