The peace, or relative peace, the family had enjoyed for twenty-five years under Opa Steven had disappeared within months of Jonas taking over.
“That’s right—you like to pretend you had no choice by blaming the victim for your lack of balls.”
This was getting boring. It was our normal interaction. Jonas ordering me to do something and me ignoring him. For some reason, he hadn’t thrown me out of his office by my second retort.
Might as well end it now. I had an assignment to get to, and sparring with this asshole was keeping me from preparing. If only I could tell this dipshit that in addition to running the business he had neglected, I worked as a spy for Interpol, the very organization looking to take him down. My connections and position gave me access into areas it would take others ten times the manpower.
I was just about to stand and tell Jonas to fuck off with his plans and digs, when he pulled out a gun and pointed it in my direction.
His face was determined, but he wouldn’t pull the trigger. He needed me too much. I held his glare.
“You will marry that girl. You will expand our holdings. And you will fall in line.”
“As I told you. Give me one good reason why I should do anything you say. The way I see it, the only one benefiting from this is you.”
“No, boy, it’s about you. How badly do you want to find out who killed Arabella and Hannah?”
“Why would it matter to you now? You never tried to look before, and by the time I could, the trail was cold.”
“That’s not true. I damn well looked. I lost my little girl. I used every connection to find the bastards who did it.” His voice cracked, surprising me.
That was the first I’d ever heard about him looking. But then again, I’d been away at university in the States. Finding out Mama and Hannah had been killed after being kidnapped had nearly destroyed me. If Opa Steven hadn’t kept the knowledge of their deaths from me, I would have been on the next flight back to Germany instead of finishing my exams.
When I’d finally gotten home, there was nothing I could do. Jonas had raged about how Mama deserved everything she got but not his Hannah. He’d shown no inclination to find the killers, only laid blame on everyone, including me.
“Let’s just agree to disagree. Your efforts were more than likely half-assed, in the exact way you run the family.”
“You watch your mouth, boy. I’m still in charge here.” He waved the gun, his movements erratic, making me think he may shoot me by mistake more than intention.
“Boss.” One of Jonas’s security shifted toward him. “You need him, sir.”
Even his own men knew without me running things, they wouldn’t have a future.
“Go ahead and do it, old man. Remember, if I survive, one word from me and your life will take a very dramatic turn for the worse. Who do you think our allies are going to align with? You or me?”
Jonas set the gun on the table, gesturing for one of his men to take it. The man immediately complied and wrapped it in a handkerchief.
“To put your plan into play, you would go against your dear Opa’s wishes? Or do deathbed promises mean nothing to you?”
How the fuck would he know about the promise? I’d been the only one in the room when he’d asked me to vow to keep the family intact. Which in Opa’s world meant keeping Jonas in charge until the next generation was born. Then and only then would I get the reins, even if I ran everything behind the scenes.
“You bugged his room. The man built you an empire and you showed him no respect, even at the end.”
“The man, as you say, wasn’t the saint you want to believe. His hands were as dirty as the rest of ours. People only respected him out of fear.”
And Jonas was probably the shadiest of us all. One day soon the world as he knew it would collapse. I was laying the foundation, piece by piece.
“We’re going around in circles. My answer to your proposal is no.”
I rose from my seat and moved to the door.
Right when my fingers circled the doorknob, Jonas said, “I’m not the one who arranged this marriage, I’m the one to enforce the contract.”
I turned, not believing a word coming out of his mouth. This whole conversation had been a waste of my time. I was due in Italy for an assignment, and my jet was ready to leave as soon as I made it to the airstrip.
“And who arranged it?”
“Arabella and your Opa. The proof’s here.” He pulled out an envelope and tossed it across the table.
I walked back to the desk, grabbed the envelope, and opened it. I couldn’t believe what I was reading.
Ten years ago, only months before Mama’s death, Opa Steven with Mama as a witness had signed a betrothal contract between Eloisa Benz and me. It was also an agreement to combine all of the Benz territories running from Berlin to the Baltic Sea and west to the North Sea with the Weber holdings. The marriage would create the largest-held territory in Germany.
I ran a hand through my hair. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be a way out of it. It was the fucking twenty-first century.
Then Opa Steven’s words echoed in my head. “Promise to keep the family going and not stray from the plans I’ve set in motion. Some things you won’t understand and will want to refuse to complete, but you must go through with them. Promise me, my boy. Let me see your Oma knowing our family’s future is safe.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I had no choice. I never went back on my word. I was going to have to marry this Eloisa Benz. God help both of us. The last
