Interesting. So his father had plans for his brothers did he?
Idly, Xavier wondered what they were, then realized he didn’t much care. The only thing he cared about was right there on his father’s desktop.
The only thing? Really?
But he ignored that thought, just like he ignored his brothers’ hostile gazes, moving over to the desk and picking up the title deed. There it was, his name across the top.
The first thing he had that was finally his.
“How’s the homeless shelter these days, Xavier?” Rafael asked quietly from behind him. “Heard you really put your time in. Got lots of good exposure. Was that part of the deal too?”
Xavier paid no attention. Folding up the deed, he put it carefully in his pocket.
He’d always liked his job at De Santis. There was nothing better than testing new products and then getting to demo them for prospective buyers. Guns were his thing after all. But it was a job that had been given to him, not one that he’d wanted for himself. A job where he’d cause the least amount of destruction, or so his father had always said.
Yes, because destruction was his thing, wasn’t it?
Well, there was one thing he wasn’t going to destroy. The ranch. Lorenzo was right, it was up to its eyeballs in debt, but he was going to fix that. Because it had been his mother’s.
And you can’t fix her or what you did. Not any more.
Xavier set his jaw. No, his mother was dead. Pills by the bedside and half a bottle of scotch gone. He couldn’t fix that any more than he could fix himself.
But he would fix this.
He’d make her proud if it was the last thing he did.
Xavier straightened. Looked his father in the eye. “I quit,” he said.
Then he turned on his heel and walked out.
No one called after him, but then he didn’t expect anyone to. His father had always known what Xavier wanted, and Xavier knew what his father wanted: his troublemaking youngest son out of De Santis for good.
Which was fine with Xavier. He had no plans to come back, not if he could help it. His mother hadn’t ever adjusted to life here, and when it came down to it, neither had he. Parties and booze and playing with guns were merely ways of passing the time until he could get on a horse and get out in the hills, ride out over the land that was his and his alone.
His alone. He liked that. And now, the first thing he was going to do was go down to his office, speak to his staff members, and start the process of tying up his life in New York. Because really, the quicker he got out of here the better it was for all concerned.
As the elevator took him down, he let the euphoria grip him. Finally—fucking finally—he was out. He was his own man. He was no longer beholden to anyone.
What a good feeling, one he hadn’t had in far too long.
By the time he approached his office, he’d forgotten all about his picnic for Mia. All he could think about now was getting home and telling her about his plans. Hell, he’d bring her out to Wyoming with him too. She’d love it. Lots of open spaces and mountains and sky. She’d never been anywhere like that, never been on a ranch. Man, he’d love to show her all of that, watch those pretty black eyes of hers get all wide and amazed. See her light up.
His chest got tight and he couldn’t help grinning like a lunatic as he went out the front of the building. Yeah, she was going to love it and he was going to love showing her.
The day turned into a long one, however. There was more to do than he thought, and quite a few problems to sort out. Problems that ended with him taking some clients out to a bar for what was supposed to be a few drinks and ended up being a good deal more.
He didn’t take much notice of the time, only realizing after he’d stumbled into the elevator on the way up to his penthouse that it was after midnight.
The lights came up automatically as he stepped out of the elevator and looked around, vaguely expecting Mia to be there before realizing once again the time and that she’d probably be in bed by now.
Vaguely disappointed, he went into the kitchen and fixed himself the strongest coffee he could, shaking his head to get rid of the vodka fumes. Standing at the counter, sipping his coffee, he made plans in his head about what he was going to do first.
He was tempted to simply leave everything here and take the De Santis jet out to Wyoming first thing. Which would of course be reckless and stupid, and would leave his father in the shit. Then again, the old man would be glad to see the back of him, so why the hell not? It wasn’t a final move, just a reconnaissance mission to get the lay of the land and see what he had to work with.
A list of things to do began to assemble itself in his head, and he was still thinking it through as he finished up his coffee and made his way back to his bedroom. By the time he’d headed into the bathroom to take a quick shower then moved naked over to the bed, he had a good idea about his plans for the next few days.