Chapter Nineteen
Vendetta
“Vengeance”
They’d taken on a new kid at Leningrad, a real prodigy with a gift for investment. Slade had initiated the hiring and Sawyer was intrigued the moment he heard the name.
“Hughes, did you say?” It had been years since anyone spoke that name with any sort of reverence. “This is Crispin Hughes’s son?”
Slade nodded. “He’s young and green, but his instincts are spot on.”
“His father was a crook,” Sawyer reminded.
“Well, his son’s honest and hungry for success. I lost my wallet, and the kid, not knowing who I was, chased me down six blocks to return it—all its contents still inside. I believe he’s trustworthy.”
Sawyer eased back in his chair. Ultimately, he’d leave the decision up to Slade, but it was a curious situation. After Crispin Hughes killed himself, the family vanished off the map.
“Where did he work before this? And why isn’t Isadora Patras handling the paperwork? She’s supposed to do all our hiring now.”
His son grimaced. “I’m choosing to leave all Patrases out of this decision. Lucian’s head’s up his ass and I want Hughes on our team. I don’t want his sister filling him in.”
Sawyer’s guard went up. “Need I remind you we still play for the same team?”
“That might change.”
The leather of Sawyer’s chair creaked as he swiped the application off his desk. Business was business, but there was something unsettling about hiring someone behind their partner’s back—though it did happen on occasion. Lucian had brought in several new employees without consulting with them first.
If this kid was all Slade said he was, it would be foolish to let him slip through their fingers.
“Christos Patras despised Hughes.” Maybe he was getting hung up on historic events that no longer mattered. “Let’s hope the vendetta died with this kid’s father. You say he’s a prodigy?”
“Definitely someone we want to grab before anyone else does.”
Sawyer slid the application back onto the desk. “Then we should act fast. I’d like to meet him.”
“I’ll bring him by next week.”
Slade had been right about the kid. Parker Hughes had an aptitude most hires spent years working up to and still couldn’t achieve. His instincts were flawless and his drive was unstoppable.
As green as he was, the clients didn’t seem to care. He was a young, good looking twenty-something year old, who knew exactly how to close a deal and get what he wanted. But Sawyer couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after. The kid wasn’t as enamored with wealth as most men were in their company.
However, it didn’t take long for Sawyer to realize he should have trusted his first instinct and cleared the position with Lucian. Their partner was outraged when he found out about Hughes. They’d had an incredible quarter, with profits higher than they’d seen in decades, but Lucian wanted Hughes gone and made that clear the day he stormed into Leningrad making threats and looking like the devil himself.
Lucian then left for France, an unexpected trip they were all grateful for. He’d been a tyrant and they all needed a break to think their options through.
It was a tough call. Hughes knew how to make money and did so with little consequence. They were all benefitting from his contribution to Leningrad, but Lucian had laid down a severe ultimatum. Either the kid went or Patras would buy out the Bishops—which he could easily do.
Thinking of all he’d worked for, the legacy he’d hoped to pass on to his son, their personal relationship with the Patras family, and his private relationship with Isadora, Sawyer saw no other option than to go over Slade’s head and salvage their ties to Patras—if they weren’t already severed.
He’d called Hughes into his office and informed him that he was being let go. “This wasn’t an easy decision, Parker. You’re an incredible asset, but we’re making some cutbacks and your lack of seniority with the company has to be taken into account. I hope you understand.”
“I understand no one else is being cut and you just lied right to my face. What, Patras didn’t have the nerve to fire me himself?”
It was the first time Hughes had ever shown a shrewd side in Sawyer’s presence. “Your issues with Lucian Patras are not my concern.”
The kid’s green eyes reflected an inappropriate level of indifference as he smirked. “Of course they aren’t. I got what I came for anyway.”
Sawyer’s head cocked, unsure what his cryptic comment implied. “There’s a non-compete clause in your contract.”
“The contract that’s now null and void since you’re dismissing me from the company without cause? Read the fine print, Bishop. I’m not an idiot. You’re breaking our contract. I can do whatever the hell I want. Patras knows that, which is exactly why I threaten him. Unlike him, I’m indebted to no one.”
The irony was the kid was right. He could fuck all of them by pulling his clients and investing in his own business.
“This shouldn’t be personal. If I had a way to keep you on, I would.”
“But then you’d be breaking the first commandment of business. Thou shall not piss off a Patras. Believe me, it’s personal.” He stood. “Have one of the secretaries forward my things to my address. I wouldn’t want anyone accusing me of taking something I haven’t earned.”
He walked out of the office and Sawyer stood, hating to leave things on bad terms. Hughes might be new, but he wasn’t someone a wise person would taunt.
Lucian was a fool not to realize the kid would now become their competition. It was better for them to maintain the impression of an alliance.
“Parker, hold on a second.”
When he reached the hall, Hughes was already at the elevator bank. The metal doors parted and the sight of Isadora in their building distracted him. What was she doing here?
He glanced at Isa only to gesture for her to give him a minute. “I could write you a recommendation for a better company.”
“Excuse me,” Hughes growled, shoving past Isadora and stepping into the elevator.
She frowned and quickly stepped out of the way, looking back at Sawyer in confusion.
Hughes stabbed his finger into a button. His shrewd glare clashed with Sawyer’s. “I’m done working for you people. But I’m sure this isn’t the last I’ll see of any of you.”
The doors closed and Sawyer gave up. “I’m sure,” he mumbled.
Isadora’s gaze bounced between him and the elevator. “What was that about?”
Letting out a huffed breath, he massaged his brow. “A good opportunity lost.” Letting all thoughts of Parker Hughes go, he smiled at her. “What brings you by?”
Keeping her expression professional, she stepped closer and handed him a thick file. “Lucian wanted me to deliver these to you.”
He flipped open the cover and glanced at the buy-out forms. He passed them back. The cocksucker sure didn’t deliver empty threats.
“Tell him the situation’s been handled. These aren’t necessary.”
No need to involve her in the whole Slade, Lucian, and now Parker Hughes saga—an ongoing drama even he didn’t completely understand. But in every battle, someone had to surrender. This time it was Sawyer. He just wanted peace.
“Good,” she said, clearly having read the contents.
“Bella…”
He wanted to tell her things should be better now, but that was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. Their relationship had been tense for months because of familial issues and it was wearing on the both of them. They needed an evening where work stress wouldn’t intrude.
“Can I see you tonight?” he asked quietly.
She held the file against her chest like a shield. “I can’t.” Her gaze skated to a nearby filing cabinet and then to a nearby woman making a phone call on her cell.
Sawyer frowned. “What’s going on?”
Her mood, like everyone else’s, seemed altered. She’d been unreachable lately, withdrawn and appearing sad for reasons he couldn’t identify. “Do you want to talk in my office?”
“I have to get back. I have an interview in twenty minutes. But you should know…”
He waited for her to finish the sentence, but she seemed to be having difficulty getting her words out. “Tell me.”
Her lashes lifted and her brown eyes locked with his like a bad omen as his gut twisted. What the hell was going on?
“This is my last week working in the city, Sawyer.”
Startled, he couldn’t hide his shock. “Why?”
“I’m taking some time to go back to school. I’ll still attend company functions and oversee certain tasks, but I’ll mostly be working at home.”
“When did you decide this?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. This past year has left a bad taste in my mouth and I don’t like the job anymore.”
“You love your job.”
“Not anymore. I’m tired of being addressed like I’m a glorified coffee fetcher. I’m the head of a department and everyone assumes I was given the position out of nepotism, which might actually be true. No one will ever respect me so long as I work in an environment my father or my brother created.”
“Isa, people respect you.” He wanted to go somewhere private where they could discuss this.
“No.” She shook her head. “They fear my name and the men who share it. That has nothing to do with me or what I deserve.”
It was an enormous decision and the fact that he was just hearing about it now—at work as if he were just an ordinary colleague—showed how much distance had come between them.
“Let me see you tonight. Please. We can talk about this in more detail once we have privacy.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve made up my mind. I’m meeting with an adviser tonight and the rest of the week will be spent training my replacement. I have a few more interviews, but I think I found who I want.”
It surprised him how much her decision bothered him. It felt like she was just giving up. “You worked so hard, Isa. You earned a degree and, until recently, you seemed to love working in HR.”
“Sometimes you love things to no avail. I’m tired of giving my days to something that gives very little back.”
“Isadora—”
Her expression shuttered. “I have to go.”
He respected that she didn’t want to have a private conversation in the hall of Leningrad. So he let it go. For now.
He watched as she returned to the elevator, waiting for her to look back, but she didn’t. He was losing—losing his top employee, his authority at a company he’d dedicated his life to, the shelter he swore to always keep open, and losing her.
Returning to his office he scowled at his desk. In a flash of rage he swept everything off the surface and sent it clattering to the floor.
“ Fuck!”