Taken by Storm (Give & Take) - By Kelli Maine Page 0,16
didn’t tell her. My son is nothing if not self-gratifying. He’d never tell the truth if it could be avoided.”
Rachael’s eyes met MJ’s. “He gave the impression… I didn’t think he knew about you at all. How did your mother die?”
MJ felt his mouth open, but no words would come out.
“In childbirth,” his grandfather said, filling in the blank. “My son took the news hard, blaming himself for her death and the baby’s.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Rachael said, shifting nervously in her chair. “How could he think it was his fault?”
MJ felt the words form like a ball of fire and erupt from his throat. “He didn’t keep his dick in his pants and knocked her up. If he would’ve, she’d be alive.”
“And you wouldn’t be here!” Rachael’s eyes blazed. Her nostrils flared. Her hands gripped the armrests like she was afraid if she let go she’d strangle him. “What happened between them was as much your mom’s doing as it was Merrick’s. It was consensual!”
“Was it?” his grandfather said, steepling his fingers and cocking an eyebrow.
“What?” Rachael’s eyes widened, and she eased back in her chair. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” his grandfather stood and came around to lean against the front of his desk, “that I spent an enormous sum of money to keep a family quiet. Gina was never forthcoming about the details.”
“But what did your son say?” Rachael’s face was void of color. Even her lips were faded to a dull pink. “Did you even ask him?”
MJ’s grandfather grinned, but his eyes remained hard and humorless. “A pubescent boy who needed the comfort of a woman after the loss of his mother isn’t someone you trust to tell the truth.”
“You trust your son to tell the truth.” Her voice was cracked ice, smooth and cold with jagged edges.
Enzo threw his hands in the air. “Either way. She’s dead. My son has taken the burden of her death on his shoulders for twenty years.” His eyes shifted to MJ. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe if he knew you were alive, he’d come to terms with it.” A smile slinked across his lips. “He still might. But if not, I’ve made certain that your future is secure.”
All business again, MJ’s grandfather hustled back around to his desk chair, sat and perched his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Rachael, I wanted you here to witness this so my son will know I haven’t stolen his fortune out from under him for no good reason.” He tapped a file folder and turned his eyes on MJ. “Merrick Enzo Rocha, Junior, I’m offering you full control of Rocha Enterprises upon your twenty-second birthday. If you graduate college, and after you graduate you’re able to successfully manage as the company’s president, all properties and holdings will be signed over to you.”
The use of his full name was something MJ had never heard uttered by his grandfather—or anyone else for that matter. He figured it was being used now to convince him of the sincerity of his grandfather’s offer.
It didn’t work.
Everything in Enzo Rocha’s world came with strings attached.
“Well?” the Old Man said, flicking his thumbs, questioning a response.
MJ figured it was best to go all-in at this point and try to pry out his grandfather’s true motives. “What if I don’t want it?”
The Old Man threw his head back and howled with laughter. He tugged his glasses off by one arm and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “What if you don’t want it.” He chuckled some more. “That’s priceless, MJ. Priceless. What else do you plan to do with your life? MMA fighter perhaps?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” He was more cut out to be an MMA fighter than the president of Rocha Enterprises.
“What’s your definition of successfully managing the company?” Rachael asked, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs.
MJ realized he’d pegged her right. She was someone who would go right for the kill every time. He bit back the urge to tell her to mind her own business. It was the question he’d been circling in his mind.
Enzo flatted his palms on the file folder and spread his fingers. “I’m a fair man, Rachael. MJ and I will do a full evaluation of each property and determine goals we mutually agree upon.”
“I’m sure you will,” she said. She shot Enzo a shrewd look. “Who will train him? You haven’t been running Rocha Enterprises.”
The Old Man licked his lips and steepled his fingers again. “Are you suggesting your boyfriend train him?