Chapter 142 The prodigal son

Chapter 142 The prodigal son


~RICHARD'S POV~

The glass doors of Blackwood Industries slid open with a soft whoosh—a sound I used to associate with power, with arriving at my kingdom. 

Now, it just sounded like an insult.

I stopped in the lobby, staring at the security guards who refused to make eye contact with me.

"I'm not doing this," I muttered, turning to leave. "Alistair made it clear. I'm out. Walking back in here like a petitioner is pathetic."

"It's not pathetic, Richard. It's strategic." David blocked my path, his hand firm on my shoulder. He looked infuriatingly calm in his navy suit, while I felt like I was wearing a costume of the man I used to be. 

"You can't keep avoiding him. You need to show the old man you aren't the same broken mess he fired last week."

I scoffed, shaking his hand off. "I am exactly the same mess, David. Just with less money and more rage. And with Monica's reputation dragging me down? Alistair won't risk putting me back on the board. He cares about the stock price more than his own blood."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Speaking of that devil," I lowered my voice. "How is the search going? The only reason I agreed to walk into this lions' den with you is because you promised me Monica."

"Relax," David said smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "My little sister-in-law is doing a great job hiding, I will give her that. But she has help. She's getting cash from somewhere."

"Who?"

David smiled, a cold, knowing curve of his lips. "Who do you think? Who is the only person arrogant enough to think he can outsmart Alexander Hayes and Alistair Blackwood simultaneously?"

The realization hit me instantly.

"Brad Sterling," I spat. "Her father."

"Bingo." David steered me toward the elevator. "If Monica was telling the truth about her father being the mastermind behind the long-con, then he isn't going to let his investment go to waste. He has her hidden."

Rage fumed in my chest, hot and suffocating. The Sterlings. They had picked me apart like vultures. And now they were protecting the woman who poisoned me.

"I'm going to kill him, too," I muttered as the elevator doors closed.

"Get in line," David drawled. "But first, we deal with Uncle Alistair."

The ride up to the executive floor was silent. When we stepped out, the air felt thinner. Colder. We walked straight to the CEO's office—my office—where Alistair was waiting.

He sat behind the desk that had belonged to my father, looking like he had been carved out of granite. 

He didn't stand when we entered. He just looked at me with a disappointment so deep it felt physical.

Then his gaze slid to David, and disappointment turned to pure disgust.

"Richard," Alistair said, his voice dry as dust. "Have you fallen so far that you think hanging around a bastard is a good idea? I thought you had hit rock bottom, but I see you've brought a shovel."

"Come on, Uncle," David said, dropping into a chair without being asked. "You wound me. Deeply."

Alistair ignored him completely, keeping his eyes on me. "I assume you're here to beg? Or did this one—" he gestured vaguely at David "—convince you that you have some sort of leverage?"

"I'm not here to beg," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

"He's here," David interjected, "because he knows I'm gathering the board against you, Alistair. And he knows I'm going to win."

Alistair finally looked at David. "Is that so?"

"I am a Blackwood," David said, his smile losing its charm and gaining an edge. "Bastard or not. I am Thomas Blackwood's son. I have a right to this chair. I have a right to the legacy you're trying to hoard."

Alistair laughed. It wasn't a nice sound. It was a bark of disbelief.

"Spoken like a true bastard," Alistair sneered. "Always wanting to eat from a garden where you never sowed a single seed. You think blood makes you worthy? You are a mistake, David. A footnote in my brother's history. You will never sit in this chair."

I watched David's face. For the first time since I'd known him, the cool, calculating mask cracked. His jaw clenched. His eyes flashed with a raw, ugly anger. 

He snapped.

"I am more of a son to him than this failure ever was!" David shouted, pointing at me. "I built my own wealth! I didn't squander it on a whore and pills!"

I smiled.

It was a small, dark thing, but I felt it. For the first time, the cunning David Blackwood had lost his cool. 

He was just as broken as the rest of us.

"Uncle," I interrupted, my voice cutting through David's tantrum. "I am not here for the shares. Or the company. You made it clear I am no part of it when you cut me off and kicked me out."

Alistair looked at me, considering. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm here because he dragged me," I jerked a thumb at David. "David, if we're done measuring egos, can we leave?"

"Wait," Alistair said. He opened a drawer and pulled out a file. "Your mother called."

I froze. "What?"

"She made a formal request to the board," Alistair said, watching me closely. "She wants you reinstated. She's willing to put up her own shares as collateral. She wants you back, Richard. She's trying to save you."

I felt a lump form in my throat. My mother. After everything I did—ignoring her warnings about Monica, pushing her away—she was still trying to save her wretched son.

"She... she shouldn't do that," I whispered.

"She loves you," Alistair said simply. "Though I cannot fathom why."

"We're leaving," David said sharply, standing up. He looked rattled. He knew what this meant. If my mother backed me, and I sided with Alistair... David was out.

We walked out of the office, the tension thick enough to choke on. As soon as the elevator doors closed, David slammed his fist against the wall.

"Don't listen to him," David hissed. "Alistair is lying. He's trying to divide us."

"Be careful, David," I said, my voice dropping. I turned to face him. "You're breaking too many of our deals."

"What?"

"You promised me Monica," I said, stepping into his space. "That was the deal. I help you, you give me her. But all I'm doing is watching you fight with Alistair."

"I'm working on it!"

"Work harder," I threatened. "Because if you don't give me Monica as you promised... I am breaking our little alliance. I will take my mother's hand. I will take Uncle Alistair's offer. And you know exactly what that means for you."

David frowned, his eyes narrowing. He didn't like this. He didn't like that the broken, drugged Richard was suddenly holding the cards. 

If I sided with the family, David would be crushed. He needed me to be the face of his rebellion.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He placed a firm, heavy hand on my shoulder.

"You're right," David said, his voice low, the charm plastered back on like a second skin. "We're losing focus. Screw Alistair. Screw the board."

He squeezed my shoulder.

"Let's go find where that bitch is hiding."

I looked at him. I didn't trust him. Not for a second. But he was the only one willing to get his hands dirty enough to find Monica.

"Lead the way," I said.