Cyrus leaned over the table and jammed his finger into Chance’s chest. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from breaking his father’s finger.
“Ben Morgan double-crossed me and stole something important. I vowed then I’d ruin him. It may have taken me almost forty years, but by God I will have my revenge. Now sit down and shut up, Chancellor. You always were the runt of the litter.” His father faced the monitor. “Clayton, you better have that damn Senate committee straightened out on the oil pipeline bill.”
Chance sank onto his chair. Old taunts still hurt, but he wasn’t that little boy anymore. He opened his mouth to continue the argument but snapped it shut as Cord delivered a shift kick to his shins under the conference table. He pressed his lips closed and glared at his father in silence.
“I’ve made a few phone calls,” the old man continued. “That should take care of it. Don’t screw it up, Clayton.”
“No, sir. I won’t.”
Cyrus cast his gaze on his other sons and missed the grimace on Clay’s face. Chance caught it, right before his father’s eyes zeroed in on him again.
“As of now, Ben Morgan’s brat will no longer have a way to get those cows to market.” The cynical smile on his face spoke volumes. Chance braced for the other shoe to drop.
“We’ll foreclose on the property, and she’ll be left with nothing but a crapload of debt. Morgan’s remaining medical bills are over fifty thousand dollars. We’ll come in, sell off everything lock, stock and barrel and throw her and that old SOB Boots Thomas out on their asses.”
Chance’s gut roiled and he fought down a wave of nausea. What the hell was the old man doing? Cass had nothing to do with this ridiculous feud. His father was out to ruin a woman Chance cared about probably more than he should, given the circumstances. He bit his tongue and remained silent. He knew the old man too well, positive there was even more to come. His father pinned him with a cold stare.
“Quit stalling, Chance. I sent you to law school and let you start a law firm for a reason. Now get those papers filed. I want the foreclosure a done deal and everything liquidated.” The old man’s lips twisted into a parody of a smile. “Well, everything but Legend’s Double Rainbow. That little stud colt will finally be mine, too.” His father dismissed him with a negligent wave of his hand and turned his attention to the others. “Now, what the hell else have you morons managed to screw up?”
Chance tuned out the conversation, stewing in his own anger. He looked up to catch Cord studying him, his brother’s expression both speculative and serious. He stared back. They were all chips off the old man’s block and where Chance had once had some pride in that, now he wondered. Why the hell did he try so hard to win this man’s respect? Forget love. Cyrus Barron only loved power and money. Yet Chance had spent his entire life trying to please the old bastard.
“Blood sticks together, boys. And you’d all better remember that. No one takes care of a Barron but another Barron. The rest of the world doesn’t give a damn so why should we give a damn about them? Family is all that matters. You all clear on that?”
Silence reigned in the void left by the old man’s departure. Even the phones in Clay’s office had stopped ringing. Chase pushed his chair away from the conference table, stood and presented his backside to his brothers.
“Is there anything left?” He whewed dramatically as everyone chuckled. “Nice to know something’s still there after that ass chewing.” He turned back around and focused his gaze on Chance. “Do us all a favor. End this thing with the Morgan girl, get the job done and get the hell out of Dodge. There’s not a woman alive who’s worth the old man’s wrath.”