Alice looks between us, not quite sure what to do. I roll my eyes and let out a loud, annoyed breath. If she thought she could have gotten away with giving me the finger, I'm quite sure she would have. Unlike me, apparently, she still observes obvious social graces.
“It's fine, Alice,” Henry tells her again. “You can leave him with me.”
She casts me one last angry glare before leaving his office without another word. I turn back to my brother, my blood boiling in my veins.
“Leave me with you?” I ask. “What am I, a lost child now?”
“Brother, you've been a lost child most of your thirty-seven years on this planet.”
“Yeah well, I can't say I had a good example in a big brother to help guide me,” I say, and then to needle him, add, “Looks like that busted nose is finally starting to heal up. You can barely notice the bruising. What did you tell your employees? Racquetball accident? No, wait, you always like making yourself look like the hero – I bet you told them you took a shot saving some poor woman from a mugging, right?”
“What do you want, Duncan?” he asks. “I have important work to do.”
“Oh, because saving lives isn't important work?” I sneer. “Go fuck yourself, Henry.”
He looks a bit taken aback by my outburst, clearly not used to anybody standing up to him in his workspace. As the king of his own little fiefdom here, Henry demands the total subservience and respect of his subjects – not that he ever returns any of that respect, mind you. But, like any good dictator around, he certainly demands constant adulation.
I walk over and throw the contract he'd left at Alexis' on his desk. It hits with a thump and slides to a stop almost perfectly in front of him. He looks at it for a long moment, then turns his eyes to me. There's an anger brewing in his face – he obviously didn't see this coming. He should have, but he obviously didn't.
“Did you expect that she'd just sign it and skip town?” I ask.
He leans back in his seat, doing his best to dial down the anger that's simmering beneath the surface.
“Actually, yes,” he sneers. “I figured that little gold-digger would –”
“Call her that one more time and you're going to end up with a lot more than a broken nose, you piece of shit.”
He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, then winces, a bolt of pain obviously shooting through him. Good, I hope it hurts.
“You do realize she's using you for your money, don't you, Duncan?”
I scoff. “You do realize you're a goddamn moron, don't you, Henry?” I spit back. “If this was about the money with her, she would have taken your bullshit deal and left town, just like you wanted. Does the fact that she didn't sign your contract tell you anything?”
“It tells me that she's holding out hope for more, probably,” he says. “I’m just trying to protect you, little brother. I just want what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for me?” I ask. “Since when do you give a shit about anything but what’s best for yourself??”
He sighs. “Duncan, I don't know why you're so obviously naive about how the world really works,” he says. “I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is. People want to take advantage of you, and they’ll do anything to screw you over. Everyone does it, even Alexis.”
“Maybe that’s a reflection of the way you see the world, big brother,” I reply. “But once again, you prove just how unworthy you are to carry on Dad's legacy.”
That brings Henry to his feet, his face dark with rage. His eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets, and his breathing is suddenly so ragged his nostrils are flaring.
“Careful, Henry,” I say. “That kind of sudden spike in blood pressure could cause you to have a stroke.”
He looks away for a moment before walking over to the sideboard in his office. He pours himself a drink, downs it, then pours another one.
“Wow, Henry,” I mock. “Not even eleven-thirty yet and you're powering it down. Ever consider the possibility that you might have a problem?”
“Fuck you, Duncan.”
My laughter is bitter and dripping with disdain, though I am greatly pleased to be getting under his skin as deep as I obviously am. Anything that upsets Henry is a good thing in my book. Eventually, he turns around to face me, seemingly calmer and in control of himself.
“You just don't get it, Duncan,” he says. “All I've done is try to protect you and our family name.”
“Actually, all you've been doing is trying to control the lives of everybody around you,” I correct. “You seem to think you're this goddamn puppet master who gets to pull everybody's strings. Well, guess what? You don't get to pull mine, you don't get to pull Mom's, and you sure as shit don't get to pull Alexis' – or those of my daughter.”
His face remains passive, but I can see him seething beneath that mask of cold detachment. Henry hates it when people don’t bow down to him and cater to his every whim. “She's not good enough for you,” he says flatly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the expression on his face is – almost apologetic.
Almost.
“Why? Because she didn't finish college?” I snap. “I would be willing to bet you one million dollars, right here and right now, that she's smarter than you. You're good at what you do, and you know your shit, Henry, don't get me wrong. But, if we're talking about all around intelligence, she has you beat hands down.”
“Bullshit,” he snaps, his face resuming its previous sneer. “Besides, that's hardly quantifiable.”
“If you think it's bullshit, put your money where your mouth is,” I say. “Put up the one million dollars and I'll get you both set up with an IQ test.”
He scoffs and swallows down half of his drink. I can see the cracks in his armor from where I'm standing. Henry knows he's not the smartest guy around and it bothers him. I wasn't lying about him being very good at what he does. When it comes to making money, Henry is great at it. It's one reason Clyburne Financial has continued to thrive even without my father at the helm.
But his intelligence is limited in its scope. He knows this business like few others but ask him to stray outside his wheelhouse and he comes off like a blithering idiot. It's something I know he's insecure about and something that bothers him to no end – and he takes great pains to hide it.
Which is, of course, why I'm taking such joy in exposing it and needling him with it right now.
“You're so blinded by a pretty face that you can't see what she's doing,” he mutters. “I don’t want you to throw away your life for her.”
“First of all, maybe this is the life I want, so fuck you. Secondly, once again, if this was all about the money for her, she would have taken your deal. Also, she wouldn't have been hiding the fact that Aurora is my daughter from me,” I explain. “If she was trying to use me, she’d have used Aurora as leverage from the beginning to get money out of me. If there's anybody who's blinded here, it's you. You're blinded by your money, Henry. Use some common fucking sense and logic – oh wait, we don't do that here at Clyburne Financial anymore.”
“You need to leave,” he growls.
“Actually, since I do still technically own fifty percent of this company, I don't have to do a goddamn thing you tell me to do,” I say.
“This is my company,” Henry hisses. “How dare –“
“Actually, it’s Dad’s company,” I interrupt. “You've merely been standing on the shoulders of a great man and using his legacy to prop yourself up. Oh, you've done some good things and have grown the company, sure. But without standing on the ladder Dad provided, you wouldn't be doing shit. And worst of all, you know it. But you continue to delude yourself into thinking you're a great man. Well, let me tell you something, big brother, you're not half the man Dad was.”
Henry takes a few steps toward me and I turn to face him, ready to start trading blows. The anger in me is churning like an angry sea, and I'm ready for a fight. But he backs down. He drains the last of his drink, walks back to the sideboard, and pours himself another.
“You claim to be all about our family name and our family legacy. But Mom and Dad's legacy – the Clyburne legacy – is helping people. It's practicing compassion, charity, and kindness. It's not judging people who may not be as fortunate and privileged as you are. Our family legacy, big brother, since you've quite obviously forgotten it, is to be a decent fucking human being.”
“Get the fuck out of my office,” he mutters, sounding defeated. “I may not be able to make you leave the building, but this is my fucking office and I want you out.”
“Sure, sure,” I say. “But, one last thing. And I want you to pay real close attention to this part because it's really important. You ready? You want to write it down or something?”
“Say what you need to say and get the fuck out, Duncan.”
“Okay, great,” I say. “Our family legacy is rooted in the most important word – family. And what you've done for years – and continue to do – is destroying that legacy. You're destroying our family. I mean, as far as I'm concerned, the Clyburne family – the actual Clyburne family – is down to Mom and me. Oh, and Alexis and Aurora now too. As far as I'm concerned, I no longer have a brother. To me, Henry Clyburne died alone and miserable – which is fitting for such a miserable asshole.”
“You done?” he spits.
“One last thing. You can take that contract and shove it up your ass. And if I ever hear about you coming around my family again, if I ever hear about you saying one negative word about them, rest assured that I'll come back here to beat your ass within an inch of your life,” I growl. “Do you fucking understand me, Henry? Say one thing or come within a hundred miles of me or anybody I love, and I will fucking kill you.”