Title Page

Copyright

Copyright © 2016 by J.L. Berg

Formatting: Champagne Formats

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9903460-9-8

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Other Books by the Author

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Dedication

For my readers, who waited patiently for Jude's brutish brother to finally have his time in the spotlight. I hope I've made it worth the wait.

Prologue

“Are you excited Roman?” my mother asked, straightening my tie, as I peered at myself in the mirror.

Nodding with enthusiasm, I stared at my reflection with a mixture of pride and bewilderment. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in a suit or fancy clothes. Growing up as a Cavenaugh, even one as young as me, had its duties.

I laughed internally at the way my hair molded to my head. Mom always had the hardest time with it. She called it her biggest challenge yet as a mother because, no matter how she had it cut or styled, she could never get the crazy strands to bend to her will.

It didn’t help that I was constantly messing it up, running my hands through it before a big test or when Molly Adams smiled at me during art class.

“Well, your brother is just finishing up, so get your shoes on, and I’ll meet you at the front door,” she instructed, giving me a warm smile, before leaving the room.

I did as I was told, double-knotting each loop to make sure I wouldn’t trip.

He might be my father, but I still wanted to make a good impression.

I’d never been invited to his work before. Mom had said it was a big deal.

My future.

I didn’t quite understand what all that meant, but I wanted to make my father proud. So, on a Monday morning, when most kids my age were still in their pajamas, reveling in the teacher workday we had off from school, I was making my way downtown to a high-rise that had my name written on the side.

Jude, my annoying little brother, was bouncing in the backseat, rattling off facts about Dad and his work. I couldn’t understand half of what he said—constantly rattling off things most high schoolers would scratch their heads at. Jude was some sort of prodigy with numbers, and my parents were already tutoring him to hone that talent.

It just made him all the more irritating.

My mother had stayed behind at home, stating that this was a day for the men of the family, leaving us in the trusted care of our longtime driver, Ed.

We pulled up to the curb of Cavenaugh Investments. I had to admit, I was a little disappointed not to find my father waiting for us, but I guessed he was a busy guy. Ed walked us in through the glass doors, and I took a brief glance around.

I’d been in the lobby dozens of times. I’d just never made it much further than that.

Today though, I would be taking the private elevator all the way to the top.

I felt like a superstar.

My father’s assistant fetched us from the lobby, thanking Ed for delivering us.

“Did you know, only three people in the entire building know this code?” Jude said proudly as we entered the elevator. “It goes directly to Daddy’s office. The rest of the executive offices are on that floor, but they have to use the regular elevator and can only access Daddy’s office by appointment or permission.”

“Shut up, Jude,” I said. I smiled awkwardly at the pretty woman.

“He’s right, you know,” she said with a quick wink.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed.

He was always right.

The elevator zoomed to the top, and before I knew it, the doors were opening, and we were standing in the waiting area outside my father’s office. His assistant’s desk was to the right, and a large seating area was to the left. I took a step toward the large wooden door that led to my father but was stopped.

“It looks like your father is stuck in a meeting. How about I show you around the executive floor? Maybe take you to the fancy break room for some snacks?” She waggled her eyebrows at us, making Jude jump up and down.

I was so not impressed.

I wanted to see my dad, not sit around eating snacks—I could do that at home. But I followed the perky young woman anyway, looking back at my father’s office. It didn’t take long for us to make it to the break room, but unfortunately for our host, all the doughnuts had been devoured.

“Well, let’s see…” she said. Clearly panicking, she started going through cupboards and drawers.

I used her moment of distraction to my advantage, and I grabbed her keys off the counter and slipped out the door. I’d come here to learn… to impress my father. And that was what I was going to do.

Walking back, I easily let myself into my father’s office, thanks to the keys the dopey woman had left unattended, and I was once again standing at the large door.

His meeting must have just ended because the door was slightly open. I lifted my hands to the door to push it open and stopped.

“They should be here any minute,” he said, clearly talking to someone on the phone.

He laughed, and I heard the squeak of a chair. I took a step back.

“Thank God for Jude. That poor boy, Roman, doesn’t have a lick of sense in him. He’s a sweet kid — and he definitely got my good looks,” he chuckled, briefly before continuing. “He’s cute, but dumb. If it wasn’t for Jude, I’d be worried sick for the future of this place. Roman would run it into the ground.”

My heart plummeted as he laughed again.

“Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

Taking another step backward, I kept going until I felt the cold touch of the elevator at my back.

“Cute, but dumb.”

My father thought I was an idiot.

My hands clenched tightly to the keys, still in my hands as anger grew in my heart.

And it never stopped.

Chapter One

“What the hell is all that noise?” I snapped, my voice booming through the thin walls of my spacious office.

No one answered, and the commotion outside my door continued as my hands moved to the sides of my head where a headache was quickly forming.

Ever since I’d officially taken over our family business, Cavenaugh Investments—for the East Coast division anyway—I’d been working in this oversize office that I’d inherited from my brother, which had originally been passed down from my father. Sitting here, where Jude and my father had once sat, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Of course, all those feelings were dashed and tossed aside because of the incessant racket happening outside my door. Calming silence usually filled my afternoons, but it had been replaced with animated feminine screams, excited laughter, and squeals of glee.

Fucking hell.

I really should have listened to my inner monologue when I’d contemplated the idea of soundproofing this place or hiring a virtual assistant.

I needed silence. Dead silence. All the time.

It was how I operated and what I demanded in order to do what I did for this company, which was basically everything. My employees, although they might find it strange, knew this, yet here they were, causing a shitstorm right outside the boss’s door.

Who even allowed them in to the office?

Slowly massaging my achy temples, I sat stoically, hoping whatever pandemonium was happening outside would eventually die down. When it failed to dissipate five minutes later, I groaned, knowing I’d have to intervene.

Here comes the asshole.

I was already known in the company as the Dickhead of the East, never speaking to anyone unless absolutely necessary and barely acknowledging a single person’s presence. Now, I was going to have to yell.

Again.

Rising from the expensive leather chair, I brushed the front of my jacket, tightened my tie, and straightened my back, feeling my bones strain from being hunched over my computer for far too long.

Walking toward the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall of the old bar my father had put in ages ago, back when handing your business partner a glass of liquor was as common as lighting up a cigarette indoors. Although the practice might have gone out of style, neither Jude nor I could part with it. Business deals might be made over conference tables more than bottles of gin, but I still loved the look of it.

It had a special place in my memories as well. Sitting atop the sleek brown mahogany shelves were irreplaceable crystal decanters that my father had had imported from Ireland. This place, the office I’d inherited from him always reminded me of my father—the good, the bad, and everything in between.

Raising a hand to my dirty blond hair, I tried to straighten out the indentations I’d made over the many hours. Seeing the dark circles and tired green eyes staring back at me, it was a wonder I was even awake at all.

When was the last time I slept?

When was the last time I was home?

I couldn’t remember.

Since Jude and his family had gone, that left me here. Alone.

He was in charge of our new West Coast division, and of course, he was making strides and handling it all like a pro, and he probably wasn’t even losing sleep over any of it.

Nothing ever seemed to challenge him.

Me on the other hand? I would be up at all hours, just trying to keep afloat. Of course, I’d never tell him that.

Or anyone else, for that matter.

To the rest of the world, I was just the asshole, the guy who didn’t give two fucks about anyone. And, mostly, they were right. I didn’t.

But this company? Well, that, I did care about. It was the legacy that had been passed down through three generations of our family, and like hell would I let it slip through the gutter on my watch. When the next generation of Cavenaughs took over, they would find this place solid and thriving.

Because of me.

This business was my family, my lover, and my only friend.

I’d made my fair share of mistakes, and now, nothing else mattered.

Nothing else would ever matter.

There had been a brief time in my life when the idea of walking into a room filled with happy, exuberant women was a welcome task. The old carefree Roman would have put on a charming, wolfish grin, immediately zeroed in to pick his target, and gone in for the kill.

But, unfortunately for me and the women I used to take home with me, those days were long gone.

My father had once called it my rebellious period. It was a period in my life when I’d thrown caution to the wind and abandoned every responsibility I had in a vain attempt to be someone else for a time.

See, the thing with growing up and knowing your inevitable outcome in life was that there was no guessing and no spontaneity. Everything, every tiny detail, was already hashed out into a nice, neat, orderly package for you, and you’d find yourself powerless to stop it.

As I’d watched my life slowly unfold while my brother and I were groomed from a young age to take over a life we’d had no choice in having, I’d decided to take another path, becoming the stereotypical rebel of the family. My parents believed Jude was the saving grace of our generation. With his gifted ability and talent for numbers, he was a shoo-in for the coveted top spot after my father retired. Why should I have sat around and waited for inevitable? It had been my chance to step out and discover who I really was — or at least have fun trying.

My father, of course, being the man he was, had spun my shenanigans into something more wholesome for the media, making me more of a modern-day spokesperson for the family and the company we were known for… but we’d all known what I was doing.

I had been turning away from my family.

Or, at least, I had attempted to.

My brother though? Like always, he succeeded where I failed.

When he’d all but dropped off the face of the earth after the death of his fiancée, I had known my carefree existence was over. When our father’s health had begun to decline, there was no one but me to take over the family business.

Me—the cute but dumb one.

I would have laughed in the old man’s face at the irony of it all—his dim-witted son taking over while his favorite wasted away his talent in a hospital, doing janitorial duties. But instead, I proved him wrong.

I’d been walking the line ever since.

Every day felt like a slow crawl into hell.

The outside world had faded away as family and what few friends I’d had ceased to exist. Nothing mattered, except for what happened within these walls.

I’d become a robot of sorts, a drone to the establishment.

I wasn’t a complete ass though. Everything I did, every hour I spent, was to keep this company afloat, to ensure the job and security of every employee who walked through those doors. Even if I did end up being the enemy in the end, at least every single one of them could pay their rent, send their kids to daycare, and afford to keep their coffee habits going for another month.

Thanks to me—the Dickhead of the East.

And now it was time to be an ass once again. Turning the handle of the heavy wooden door, I pulled it open and stepped into a giant clusterfuck of female frenzy.

Pink and blue balloons were floating around the ceiling, their tiny ribbons creating a curtain of colors as I tried to make my way through the mayhem. Nearly every woman on the floor was gathered around my assistant’s desk with beaming bright eyes as they each waited their turn to hug and congratulate her for some marked accomplishment.

Did I miss something?

Glancing down with obvious curiosity, I instantly noticed her protruding belly and inwardly sighed. I’d missed a big something.

Bethany’s eyes caught mine as several women continued to ogle her pregnant belly. Surprise, followed by what appeared to be fear, swept across her features, and she suddenly cleared her throat, alerting the others of my arrival.

“Mr. Cavenaugh, I’m so sorry. Did we disturb you?” she said, barely able to meet my gaze.

“Why do you think I’m out here at”—I glanced down at my watch, sighing at the time—“three o’clock in the afternoon?”

“We apologize, Mr. Cavenaugh,” one of the ladies said, stepping up.

I recognized her from accounting. She proudly held her chin up, her eyes never wavering from mine. It was an odd reaction to receive from one of my employees. Was she new? Usually, it didn’t take long for the beware-of-the-boss speech to make its way to the newbies, furthering the healthy dose of fear from one staff member to the next. It kept things simple, clean, and easy. If they feared me, they wouldn’t bother me.

I wouldn’t win any Boss of the Year awards this way, but it helped me get things done, and in turn, everyone could keep their jobs.

“We were just surprising Bethany with a sweet baby shower that we’d been planning for weeks. We just wanted to give her a few things before this little bundle of joy arrived! We’ll move down to the break room momentarily. Won’t you join us?” she asked.

The way she’d said it made it feel like a dare, like I’d just stepped back into middle school and the dreaded Coke bottle had landed on me.

Truth or dare, Roman?

As if the attention hadn’t already been focused on me, it doubled in that moment. Everyone waited in hushed anticipation for my answer. My fingers dug into my disheveled hair as I tried to hide the nervousness in my demeanor.

How had I missed my assistant being pregnant? Shouldn’t that have been something I noticed?

Had she told me, and I’d forgotten?

Fuck.

I looked back at the group of women standing in awkward silence, waiting for my answer. The leader of the group—the blonde from accounting—smiled smugly, as if she already knew my answer. Her hand rested at the curve of her hip as it jutted out, accentuating her long, lean legs and pert round ass.

How I’d love to wipe that pompous grin off her face with a few lashings of my tongue. My dick twitched at the mere thought.

“No, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. Sorry,” I replied swiftly, pulling my gaze away from the daring blonde with the chocolate-brown eyes. “And, Bethany? Don’t take too long. You have a job to do,” I added bluntly, turning quickly toward the door that led back to my office.

That led back to hell.

But, for now, at least it felt like my salvation.

Every bone in my body seemed to moan with exhaustion as I rose from the plush leather chair, cracking my neck to ease the tension that had slowly been building throughout the day. Flexing my fingers, I looked out to the panoramic skyline, noticing the brilliant orange sunset I’d seen hours earlier replaced with thousands of twinkling bright lights dotting the skyline.

What time is it?

Glancing at my watch, I groaned, realizing I’d been here far longer than planned.

Again.

My stomach audibly rumbled in protest to the lack of concern for my well-being, and I began gathering my things for home.

Home.

What an odd word. There were so many quotes, songs, and poems about the simple four-letter word. It empowered people, ignited wars, and gave hope to those who were lost.

But, as I walked through the halls of the darkened building, on my way to the place I called home, there was nothing remotely close to hope. The large apartment I rented in a sought-after Manhattan high-rise was more than most people would ever have in their entire lives, yet when I entered, I felt hollow.

There was only ever one place in my life that truly felt worthy of the word home.

Our family’s country estate.

Tucked far away from the city, it was like stepping back in time. Long forgotten was the hustle and bustle of the metropolis, replaced with long, winding paths through the rose garden with our mother and evenings on the porch, searching for fireflies.

It was where I felt most at ease, like a child rather than a walking, talking insurance plan for the future of our family. But just like my short-lived childhood, the beautiful house lay barren, like a ghost town, covered in white sheets and layers of dust.

Much like my memories of the place.

Stepping into the elevator, I pressed the button for the lobby and watched the doors shut. The lights slowly blinked, showing my descent. I rocked back on my heels, willing myself to stay awake for just a bit longer.

The familiar sound of the doors opening slightly startled me but spurred me into action. I now felt the emptiness in my stomach, reminding me it had been far too long since my last meal.

Time for food.

And maybe a hefty dose of vodka to effectively shut off my brain for the night.

Leftovers and drinking alone.

What an amazing life I’d made for myself.

When there had been two of us here to run things, I could fit in my extracurricular activities with ease, stepping out for the evening at a decent hour without a twinge of guilt. Granted, those activities had mostly been limited to the four walls of my bedroom, but it had been a good life.

No strings. No responsibilities after leaving the office.

But now that Jude had started business on the West Coast, basically doubling our workload, I felt like I was paddling up a river, going the wrong way.

With only one oar and maybe a broken arm.

If I told him this though, he’d be here in two seconds, ready to help and lead where I had failed. He’d uproot his family, tearing them away from the life they’d built in Southern California, just to be here for me because I’d asked, even after everything I’d put him through.

He was a better man than me, and because of that, I’d never ask. Otherwise, my father would win. His belief that I’d eventually fail and the entire company would crumble at my feet?

Yeah, I don’t think so.

I was so lost in my thoughts and possibly consumed with ravenous hunger that I nearly missed the leggy blonde sitting on the upholstered bench near the exit. Her familiar Cheshire Cat smile though caught my attention.

“You keep long hours, Mr. Cavenaugh,” she said, lifting one beautiful, long leg over the other.

I watched in fascination, wondering what those legs would look like wrapped around my neck. Remembering her brazen attitude with me earlier, I took a step back.

This was exactly the type of female I liked—strong with a no-bullshit attitude and a body that could keep me entertained all night long.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” I asked casually.

“Maybe.”

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