Someday I hoped to get out of my dad’s business, but I wouldn’t have what I did without him. Growing up, all I wanted was to be a chef in my own restaurant, but reality came knocking not long after I finished culinary school. Dad was insistent in handing over the collection business to me. He promised I wouldn’t have to deal with the people who didn’t pay—he’d take care of that—I just needed to collect the payments. That eventually turned into a few of my dad’s men joining me, and what was supposed to be a thing on the side became my responsibility; my job. It wasn’t something I’d taken on lightly, but Dad made up for it by giving me the money to buy the restaurant. I used the profits from the first to buy the next two. I’d realized my dream, but it came with conditions.
After he’d paid for the restaurant and culinary school, I didn’t feel like I could walk away from my obligations. Someday, I hoped that would change. But that someday wasn’t now.
When I pulled up into the valet of my parents building, I saw my brother getting into his car. “Miller,” I called before he shut the door.
“Ashton, hey.” He stepped out of his car and pulled me in to clap me on the back. “What are you doing here?”
“Just business.”
We both knew that you never talked in the open. It was a surefire way to get your ass thrown in jail.
“Oh, things not going well?”
My jaw went tight and he read it. “Explain later, yeah?”
He opened his mouth then promptly shut it again. My brother happened to be one of the few people who knew me well enough to understand that my silence meant something seriously fucked up had happened. But being as smart as he was, he also knew when to leave it alone.
“All right, man. You know whatever it is, I’ll help.”
“I know.”
“Just call.”
“I will. Later.”
Walking through the front door, I noticed the lobby full of people going about their lives, oblivious to anything but themselves. The elevator doors opened and I climbed in, pressing the button for the penthouse but the doors remained open. It took me a moment but then I remembered. The key. Every single time, I forgot the damn thing. I slipped the keycard out from my wallet, pushed it into the slot, and the doors closed, the elevator rapidly making the climb to the top floor.
The doors opened to reveal my parents’ front door. Without bothering to knock, I let myself in.
“Mom? Dad?”
Mom came out of the kitchen wearing an apron covered in flour and her trademark smile. “Ashton, what are you doing here?”
I bent and kissed her on the cheek as she wrapped me in a hug. “I needed to talk to Dad.”
She stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “Never to see me. Let me guess—business.”
I laughed. As much as she might grumble, my mom knew how things worked. It was, after all, Dad’s business that kept her in the life she loved. That didn’t mean she didn’t like to pull our legs about it, though. “Yes, business, but I need to talk to you too. I just need to talk to Dad first.”
She beamed. “I can deal with that. He’s in the office. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Despite being able to afford to hire staff, my mom did all the cooking. She refused to hire anyone to work in her kitchen. Growing up, she taught me how to make different foods and she was the one who’d inspired me to go to culinary school. That was why I had to speak to my dad first. I knew I’d end up helping her in there for at least an hour before I left.
The office door was open, but I still knocked before going in. Most of the time, I didn’t want to know what my father was dealing with, the less I knew the better, so it was always safest to err on the side of caution.
"Dad?"
“Ashton. Come on in.” He closed a file and leaned his arms on the top of his desk. “What’s up?”
Normally I would have closed the door, but Mom was going to find out all about what happened anyway so there was little point. “We have a problem.”
His eyes narrowed. “A non-payment? You know how to handle those.” He waved me off, opening the folder and dismissing the whole conversation.
“It’s more than that.” I took a seat and waited for him to pay attention.
He looked up. “Jesus Christ, Ashton. Fuckin’ handle it already. I’ve got enough of my own shit to deal with.”
Sometimes the only way to truly get my father’s attention was to shock the shit out of him. “Dominic Tolley, he couldn’t come up with the cash. Offered to trade his wife to wipe out the debt.”
Dad’s head snapped up. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“The bastard offered me his wife for three months and made it clear she was to fuck me every night to pay off his debt.”
Dad knifed up, the force of his hands slamming against the desk causing his pen to jump and roll onto the floor. He left it where it was. “Motherfucker! I hope you had Brock follow his ass home and take care of him.”
“No.”
The muscles in his neck strained, the blue veins covering his skin like rivers on a map. “You sent her home with him, right?” My eyes dropped to my shoes and he growled. “Tell me you didn’t, Ashton. Tell me you didn’t take the girl in lieu of payment.” I lifted my chin and he got his answer. “Jesus, fuck.”
“I made him a deal,” I said. “I get Elena for three months, and he pays back half of what he owes.”
“Half? Are you crazy? Does she have a golden pussy or something? She must have. There must be a good reason for this . . . insanity.”
By this point my dad had rounded the table, grabbing handfuls of my shirt, pulling me flush against him, his face millimeters from mine as he shouted his displeasure. My fists clenched at my sides. At six-one I was a big bastard, but Dad was bigger. He could take me without breaking sweat. Even so, my voice was tight when I looked him straight in the eye and replied, “He abuses her, Dad,” the volume dropping slightly when I continued. “I don't know to what extent but she won't even look me in the fucking eyes when I talk to her. Can't make a decision on her own. Swear to Christ, she jumped six fuckin' feet in the air when I touched her hand. I have no intention of touching her, but I couldn’t let her leave with him. If I shot him down and let Brock rough him up a little, imagine what that would have meant for her.” I paused before saying quietly, “You of all people know what that would have meant.”
Understanding washed through his features and he lowered me to the ground, releasing my shirt from his grip, smoothing out the crumpled material. "She's staying with you?"
"Yes." I made the split-second decision to share my plan with him. "I've only got three months to repair what he broke. It'll be tough but I'll be damned if I don't give it a try."
Dad leaned back against his desk, his heavy sigh audible in the otherwise silent room. “I don’t understand why you didn’t kill the bastard.”
“Trust me, I thought about it, but you know as well as I do it wouldn’t do any good. Just like Aunt Veronica, she’d end up with some other loser to bully her. I can break the cycle. Show her she’s strong enough to leave him on her own. I just need the next three months.” I paused. “Then I can send Brock in.”
Dad nodded. “Interesting plan. Three months isn’t long, though. It took at least a year to repair what that cocksucker broke in Ronnie.”
Leaning back in the chair, I crossed my ankle over the top of my knee, my foot twitching as I thought out loud. “I’m starting with simple things, like having her make her own choices. She wouldn’t even choose from the menu at the ballpark last night. And today I sent her to the spa.”