Chapter 37: Under New Leadership
I try to catch Donovan’s gaze across the conference table that feels more like an ocean. Instead, Cameron looks at me, his dark eyes narrowing so his eyebrows furrow into harsh even lines between his eyes.
Both brothers look more like overworked interns than executives. Donovan’s usually impeccable suit is rumpled at the sleeves and torso, like he’s been slumped over, and Cameron’s silk tie has a dark brown stain on it. They also smell like sweat, which means they’re still wearing yesterday's clothes.
“What’s this all about pops? What’s so important that you leave your NBC penthouse to come down to this ‘dump’ as you’ve so affectionately called it in multiple texts and emails?” Donovan asks, weariness weighing down his voice.
“Don, this place is more backward than your business strategy. Hell, Rivkah, your Alpha fiancée you jilted, had to build their first decent club here.” Cameron’s face twists into a nasty smirk and I can’t help but lean back in my chair.