It isn’t always true that a critical end justifies desperate means ― RICHELLE E. GOODRICH
Escorted by Jason in a grand limousine with a bottle of champagne and caviar, Alex had been a little intimidated by the show of wealth and power. Though he hadn't let it show. Alex had been a little taken aback when he had met his grandfather. Sitting on a table by the window with the backdrop of the New York Harbor behind him and a bowl of untouched soup in front of him, he'd peered up at Alex with stiff-necked pride. He looked out of eyes that were passed down to him as well with malicious and keen intent. Alex had stood his ground under the old man's scrutiny as he'd swept Alex's form from the tips of his dark sun-streaked hair to the Harvard sweatshirt, ratty jeans and Converse sneakers.
While his grandfather looked him over, Alex had conducted his own survey and seen that his mother's father was of lean build, if a bit on the thin side with a full head of salt and pepper hair. His face was a road map finely lined with disappointment and ambition as years of hard work and ruthless determination were showcased. He wore a fine, gray suit with a dark, navy tie and a huge black Onyx ring on his left hand's forefinger. A fine piece of jewelry with intricate silverwork didn't add up to what he knew of his only surviving family. But then if it was an heirloom or a sentimental piece, Alex knew he didn't know enough about what could be important to the old man. Yet.
"You have your mother's eyes. Didn't expect that," He said absently as if commenting on the weather. "Now don't just stand there, sit down."
This was said so begrudgingly after he'd been standing unflinchingly under his intense scrutiny for so long that Alex had half a mind to just walk out without a backward glance. But after all the pain his family had been put through because of this one man's arrogance and pride, Alex's inevitable curiosity won out. He sat down in the comfortable black wicker chair opposite him.
"I expect you're curious to know why I invited you here?" He asked with a sly gleam in his eyes.
Alex didn't reply and the silence dragged on. They both knew he was summoned and that Alex had had no choice in the matter.
"You're a cool son of a bitch aren't you? Well, fine. Don't talk. I just need you to listen at this point anyway."
He leaned back and continued in a defensive tone, "I don't make any excuses for abandoning you and your mother. When I found out that she had gone against my wishes and married that no-good spoilt brat of your father, I was very angry. I had already arranged a suitable match for her and then she got pregnant with you. I knew it was a marriage made in hell from the beginning. What with all his drinking and whoring. But did she listen to me? No, so when she came back crawling for help after your father left both of you, I decided to teach her a lesson. Nobody walks away from Sebastian Knight." He pronounced with a cruel sneer.
Alex was silent, his face a mask of unconcern and indifference. He wouldn't allow the bastard to see the fury boil in his veins or his fingers clench into fists keeping him from attacking the old fool. If not for the threat of his grandfather being able to pull his admission from Harvard and even more importantly the help only he could provide, Alex would have spit in the man's face, punched him deservedly and stormed out.
"But now I realize that maybe I was too...hasty. She deserved another chance as my daughter. I will always..." He abruptly broke off and turned to him from where he'd been staring out the window.
"Now I cannot change the past. But you have the power to control your-our future, Michael Alexander James Knight," His tone turned reverent-like and a fanatical look entered his eyes.
"Don't call me that," Alex practically growled at the man.
Another chance? It was too little, too late.
Alex's mother had drowned in a boat accident a couple of years ago. The boat on which she'd been working as a hostess after the innumerable odd jobs she'd done just to make ends meet. It had been nobody's fault except this man's that his mom had had to do whatever was needed to survive. She was an heiress to a multimillion-dollar fortune and she had had to make people's beds and scrub toilets for a living. But, here Sebastian Knight was, acting as if Alex owed the man something.
Fuck him.
He clenched his teeth and tried to sound calm and collected, "My name is Alex-Alexander Danver, in case you've forgotten and I'm sure this will come as no surprise. But not one. Single. Part. Of my. Future. Includes you." He drawled enunciating each word.
"I'm talking about the chance of a lifetime, Alex. I'm sure you know about Knight Inc. It's the biggest and most successful business on the East coast with the potential to make even Microsoft and IBM look like fledgling startups."
"So what has that got to do with me?"
"Everything. Don't you want a chance to be King? To taste the life that you were born into?" The old snake cajoled.
"I don't want anything from you. If you would stop speaking in riddles and look at something or someone other than yourself, you would realize that you have already insulted your daughter and now me. This talk has gotten just too boring for words. I have a final to prepare for, so I can't say it's been nice meeting you, but I came and heard you out. Now stay out of my life as you always have and I'll do the same."
He didn't care if he sounded rude or reckless, he was tired of playing this man's games.
He stood up and was gratified to see the look of pure hatred flash in the old man's eyes. Now he would find out the real reason he was brought here.
"You are just like your mother. Insolent and ungrateful. If it was up to me, you wouldn't even be here-"
"-How lucky for me then that decision was not yours to make," He interrupted the old bastard's vitriol.
"Enough," Sebastian Knight stuck out his palm and continued in a dignified tone.
"Now sit your punk ass down."
He remained standing. A small defiance, but he had no intention of bowing down to this cruel man's wishes. Now or ever.
"Fine, I have a proposal for you."