Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 104

But to do that, I would’ve had to give up a hell of a lot, and I just wasn’t willing to do that.

Should I have slept with his wife? No.

If I hadn’t, maybe I would have spent the last week in a Scottish castle snuggled up to a freckled redhead instead of fighting for my life in a Scandanavian wilderness.

Before that night at the restaurant, Hiro had only suspected infidelity between me and his wife. However, I had to go and give him proof—kissing and fucking Carla in a very public restaurant inside a very public hotel. How much more did Hiro want me dead after learning about that night?

Still… as much as I could admit fault, part of me wanted to dig my heels in. Everyone seemed to think he should have had his shit together on day one, and if I’d had learned anything, it wasn’t that easy.

“Can you blame me?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I bloody well can. Carla Tanaka is a harpy.”

“Well… she’s a hot harpy.”

“Please tell me there’s more to it than that. You’re already surrounded by lovely women—including Roger VanCamp’s wife!”

“You’re right,” I said quietly. “There was more to it than that. I was scared. And mad.”

Chandler didn’t reply.

“You were there,” I continued. “You saw how pissed he was. Hell, you even said it!”

I made air quotes with my fingers. “‘You’ve made a powerful enemy. Hiro Tanaka holds grudges.’ Those were your words.”

He looked like he was about to say something, but I continued before he had the chance.

“Chandler, he wanted a huge chunk of my company after stabbing me in the back. I had less than a month to prepare for all of it, and I spent about half the time either kidnapped or in recovery.”

I shook my head. “I was an idiot. Still am, in most ways. People think I can just step into my grandpa’s shoes and pick up where he left off.”

“I understand your—”

I pointed at Jessica. “You see that girl?”

“The waitress?” Chandler asked.

“Yeah. That used to be my girlfriend. She lived in Kansas. I saw her maybe once every two or three months. She’s smart, beautiful… but come on. She’s nowhere in the same league as someone like Erin or Rose.”

I leaned in slightly. “Chandler, I was one of those ‘nice guys’ with zero confidence. I kept my head down, minded my own business, did my work, and got cheated on the entire time. I dated long distance because I was too scared to go after the girl I really wanted who worked a few feet away from me. I was a fucking loser, man.”

“Suddenly, all this money lands in my lap. People come out of the woodwork… Cameras in my face. Sharks with fifty years of experience start circling me. I’m giving press conferences that affect global markets.”

I tossed my empty glass onto a chair. “Everyone thinks they know how they’d act in my position. Hell, even I had a plan for if I ever won the lottery, but nothing prepares you for the insanity that comes with the that kind of wealth.”

I looked him dead in the eyes. “Now remember all that—and imagine someone like Hiro Tanaka, who controls the Yakuza, threatening you to your face.”

“I’m not asking for pity. I know I’ve made mistakes. I will make more. I’m just asking you to cut me some slack.”

“Easy, there,” Chandler said, his tone soft as he placed a steady hand on my shoulder. “I understand more than you know.”

His mouth quirked into a half-smile beneath his iron-gray mustache. “I’m just glad you had the sense to put some faith in me to help guide you through these early days.”

I gave him a half-hearted smile as I glanced away.

“I know it’s been an adjustment,” he said, an edge of sharpness to his words. “But time is short, and I’m afraid you’re simply going to have to adjust faster.”

His words shocked me a little. I hadn’t expected tough love from the jovial old Brit, and I eyed him thoughtfully.

I knew he was right.

Norway had taught me that. Astrid had taught me that.

I only hoped I hadn’t finally learned the lesson too late.

As Chandler’s words settled into me, I spotted movement near the rooftop garden—and did a double-take. My little brother had just stepped onto the roof. I hadn’t even known he was in town.

What the hell was Richie doing here?

“Thanks, Chandler,” I said, clapping him lightly on the arm. “I think I needed to hear that.”

“Whew.” Chandler huffed and mimed wiping sweat from his brow. “Thank God. I was starting to worry a little tough love might get me fired!”

I laughed, squeezing his shoulder. “Not a chance. I’d be lost without you.”

“Well…” he trailed off, lifting an empty glass to his lips and blinking when nothing came out. Compliments clearly made him uncomfortable.

I gestured toward Richie, who was standing nearby, looking just a little lost. “If you don’t mind—”

“Go,” Chandler said, waving me off. “Enjoy your triumph.”

I turned and started to walk away—then paused, glancing back over my shoulder.

“Does that mean I can go looking for trouble?”

“Only the good kind,” Chandler said with a grin. “And stay away from billionaires’ wives!”

“No promises!” I called out as I turned and made my way to my brother.

"Bro! What the hell are you doing here?" I said as I approached him.

My little brother, recently eighteen, brightened as he saw me approach.

"Hey! Yeah, your assistant invited me! I hope that’s okay?"

"Of course it is!" I said, throwing my arms around him. "I just didn’t know you were in town!"

"Yeah, school started just after Labor Day. I’m in the dorms and have started classes!"

"Aw, man! I completely forgot! I’m sorry I missed your move-in!"

"No problem! I’m just thrilled I got an invite for tonight!"

"You’re telling me it’s Friday night, and you had nothing better to do than hang out with your brother?"

Richie laughed and pointed at some of the girls gathered around the pool.

"I’m not exactly playing Smash Brothers, am I?"

"True," I said with a grin. I turned to look at the guy standing with him. He looked about the same age—dirty blond hair, an easy tan, dressed in neatly pressed khakis and a color-coordinated polo. The shoes matched, too. His hair was perfect—darker near the roots. Definitely not a T-shirt and jeans kind of guy, like Richie.

"Hey," I said, offering a hand. "I’m Marcus."

He grabbed it with a firm shake, his teeth flashing brilliant white. "Hi, Mr. Upton. Eli Sturgis."