I know I should be analyzing the results from the European division because the new tax laws coming out of Brussels are driving a lot of people nuts. Danger Enterprises and me included.

But I can’t.

Ever since the gala, I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions. True to her word, Olivia seems to have kept quiet about the fight because Dad hasn’t said a thing. So at least that’s a relief. Chase is basically ignoring my existence, which would usually be welcome, but Maddie’s words keep ringing in my head, and I wonder if there’s any way to repair so many years of damage between us. And the board hasn’t voted yet, which makes me antsy, ready to begin the real work of partnering with AlphaSystems.

All that work turmoil is settled when I’m with Maddie, though. She’s been spending more and more time at my place, and she even made a passing comment that made me think she’s considering moving in with me. Halle-fucking--lujah! Because the nights when I come home to an empty place are hell, a reminder of how much she means to me and that I need her with me, by my side, as much as possible.

I’m staring at the same line of text I’ve been reading for the last ten minutes when there’s a knock on my door, and I look up to see Robbie giving me a thumbs-up. “Good news, Boss Man.”

“What’s that?” I ask, pushing my keyboard aside and waving Robbie in. Fuck it, this is why we have accountants. They’re paid to know this tax law shit better than me, anyway.

Robbie helps himself to a seat. “AlphaSystems is upping the ante.”

I lift an eyebrow, saying nothing. I’ve already heard. Much to my surprise, Dad’s idea for the gala may have actually started an odd type of ‘bidding war’. It seems the proposed companies are starting to offer incentives in an attempt to secure their partnership with Danger Enterprises. They don’t have money—that’s why they want ours—but they have ownership percentages, profit sharing, and whatever other methods they think will sway the money their way.

“In addition to doubling our stock options, they agreed to name the scholarship fund at the university after your dad . . . the Robert Danger Advanced Technology Fund.”

I whistle, smirking a bit. “Like he’d know advanced technology if it bit him in the ass, but talk about playing to Dad’s ego. He’ll love the immortality of having his name attached to something like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too,” Robbie says. “I don’t care what money Chase’s boys might be offering because we know the money is there in every option in different amounts. But Robert Danger’s name in the paper every year as he hand-selects a recipient and personally delivers the scholarship? That sort of shit sticks.”

“You heard any gossip about what’s going on upstairs?” I ask.

“Decision is going to be soon,” Robbie says. “The whole board is involved now, and you know they’re playing it close to the vest. Closed-door chats and all.”

“The more they think about it, talk to each other, the better our odds. Shows that they have doubts about blindly following Dad’s order. I’ve had a couple of them call my home line to ask questions, and hell, Charlie caught me in the parking garage last week. I think that’s a good sign. I’m hopeful, at least.”

Robbie nods. “Makes sense. By the way, heard something else,” Robbie mentions. “You and Chase still aren’t talking to each other?”

“Yeah, we haven’t dealt with the shit show after the gala. Maddie said some things that have really made me think about my relationship with Chase and Liv, but I just don’t know how to go about changing a lifetime of rivalry, especially with this axe hanging over our heads,” I tell him dejectedly.

Before he can comment on my confession, my intercom buzzes. “Sir? Your father wants to see you.”

“Of course. Tell him I’ll be up right away,” I reply, looking at Robbie.

“First thing to do with your brother and sister . . . apologize. All three of you have been absolute shits to each other forever. Start with ‘I’m sorry’ and go from there,” he says like it’s that easy.

Easier said than done, but I know he’s right. “Thanks, man,” I say, getting up to head upstairs. In the minute it takes me to get to the board room, I see that Chase and Liv have already beaten me there. No surprise. Dad probably called me last, I think bitterly.

Still, I have room for hope. Chase doesn’t have his normal arrogant smirk on his face, and Liv has her usual detached façade. They’re not confident either. So whatever’s going on . . . I’ve still got a shot.

Dad’s back is to me as I enter the room, looking out over the skyline, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his suit and his shoulders squared.

He turns as I take my seat, and I see that his eyes are fiery as he stares daggers at all three of us. “You think I didn’t hear about the little incident at the gala? Scott, starting a fight with your brother like a child? Grow up, son. This is business, not playground roughhousing. Just another example of your inadequacy and infantilism.”

“I’m sure you know that’s not what happened,” I growl, glancing at Chase, who for once looks as surprised as I feel. He didn’t know this was coming either. “I—”

“If it were up to me, you’d be out on your ass! Your actions could’ve cost us dearly. God, imagine if one of the board members or one of the CEOs of the guest companies had walked in on that display of juvenile delinquency. Although I guess I shouldn’t expect better from you. By now, I know you’re always such a disappointment,” Dad yells. “Unfortunately, the verdict’s coming down, and it’s not solely my decision on which route we go. I can’t fire you because it’ll lead to too many questions, and I guess there’s the off chance they’ll pick your deal.” He says the last part with a snide grin, like it’s a complete impossibility.

“Hasn’t stopped you from doing what you’ve wanted before,” I growl, glancing at Liv and Chase. Both of them look a bit shell-shocked at Dad’s display, and I realize he usually saves his harshest criticisms of my character flaws for when it’s just the two of us. They’ve never heard him talk to me like this. I do what I always do . . . take the pain, transform it, and turn it into something useful.

Dad huffs at my outburst, turning to face the window again, rudely dismissing me the same way he always does.

Usually this is the point where I walk away, but today, I can’t. “You’re wrong,” I say flatly.

Dad turns around from his window view, eyeing me incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re wrong. The board is considering my plan. Hell, they’re considering them all, but we all know my plan is the one that’s intriguing them. That’s why they’re having closed-door discussions without you. You can’t control this and it’s driving you crazy. You’re such a narcissist that you don’t realize you’ve already lost,” I say, stepping forward. “The fact is, the whole gala was just an excuse to stroke your own ego. You’re behind the times and out of touch.”

My father is fuming, literal beads of sweat popping on his forehead as the heat of his anger enflames him from the inside. “No matter which way the board goes on this, it’s still not a clear-cut decision on who will take the reins when I retire. That’s a separate vote and one I will be heard on again before ballots are cast. So watch yourself, Son. This old dog still has bark, but more importantly, he still has bite.”

He gets up, passing me as he walks to the door, and I hold my breath, literally unsure what he’s going to do. But he simply bypasses me without incident before stopping in the doorway. He looks back, making eye contact with each of us before settling his eyes on mine. “Scott, of all my children, you are the most like me. A chip off the old block.” He says it with a smile, like it’s a compliment. It’s the worst thing he’s ever said to me and my stomach rolls as he strides off down the hall.

I collapse into the white leather chair nearest me, stunned and questioning whether I’m really like him. He’s been the villain in my story all along . . . the absentee father, the harshest critic, the self-important narcissist. Could he be right about me?

Liv comes over, sitting daintily in the chair nearest me like the lady she mostly is. “Scott, he’s wrong.” My eyes click to hers, and I know I’m silently begging her for more. “Dad is an asshole, always has been and always will be, with issues we can’t begin to decipher or cure. You’re ambitious and driven, with a hard outer shell. But you’re not him. None of us are. We’re affected by him, but we’re not broken like he is.”

I lay my hand over hers and realize it’s the first time in years that I’ve touched my own sister other than handshakes and poses for pictures at events. “Thanks, Liv.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Chase speaks but never looks away from the view out the windows. “Is he always that cruelly critical with you?”

I huff a humorless laugh. “That? Other than telling me I’m like him, that was a fucking rah-rah pep talk compared to our usual rehash of my faults.”

Chase’s eyes cut to mine, and I can see the disgust. “I had no idea. His talks with me are usually about how I’m destined for greatness but have to fight and earn every accolade lest you steal them from me.”

Ours eyes lock on each other, flashes of our past playing out between us in the tense air. The competitions, the fights, the hatred, but also the hard work, the accomplishments, and the empire we’ve helped sustain. It hasn’t been pretty, but it’s gotten us pretty damn far. Although I’m not sure the benefit has been worth the cost.

Chase’s eyes drop first and he takes a breath, but I don’t let him say anything else, don’t want to dwell on what has been. Maddie is in my ear, telling me that there’s another way, or there could be. “Chase, I’m sorry. About the fight, about the . . . well, about a lot of things. I’m sorry.” Maddie was right. Saying it does feel good, releases a knot in my core I didn’t know was there.

I turn to Liv, apologizing to her as well. “Liv, I’m sorry for so much too.”

She smiles, a genuine full smile that is so rare I can’t remember the last time I saw it. “Apology accepted, brother.” She leans back in her chair, pointing first at Chase and then at me. “And not that either of you fuckers asked, but my conversations with Dad? Nonexistent. Never happen. I get the pleasure of dealing with his weaselly PA, which is hell all its own. Guess I used to think I was missing out on some father-son bonding thing, but now I’m thinking I’m the lucky one who missed out on all that damage.”

It’s inappropriate, irreverent, and downright cheeky, all things Olivia Danger is not. But it’s exactly the right thing to say, and we all suddenly burst into laughter. I don’t think we’ve ever laughed together. Ever.