ROWEN

The scent of polished mahogany filled my nostrils the moment I pushed open the door to my father’s study.

He was already seated behind the heavy desk, his fingers steepled beneath his chin like a judge ready to deliver sentencing. His expression didn’t shift when he saw me. Just a subtle motion of his hand toward the seat in front of him.

“Sit.”

I did. Back straight, legs apart, hands resting on the arms of the chair like I owned the place. He might’ve been the chairman, but I’d been holding this company’s spine up longer than he cared to admit.

He stared at me for a long moment...