WREN
Moms are good at one thing: the guilt trip. It’s the only reason I’m at the funeral of a man I’ve never had anything to do with.
I’ll show up, make her happy, and get out.
At least that’s what I think until I learn daddy dearest has left me a crap load of money and the obligation to learn about the family business. All from his eldest son who looks nothing like the rest of us.
Darcy is the only Ritcherson who doesn’t treat me like the bastard son that I am. He helps me learn, pushes me to be better, and as we work together, we grow closer. For a gazillionaire with a media empire at his fingertips, he’s surprisingly humble.
And sweet.
And saying things he shouldn’t be saying.
The thing is, Mom swears she was never a mistress. Swears she was the only one Dad was seeing when she fell pregnant with me. But with Darcy only a few weeks older, there’s no way that can be the case.
Unless …
Unless the things he whispers when he thinks I’m not listening mean something. The guilt in his eyes when he looks at me would make sense.
If Darcy isn’t my father’s biological child, he’s not the Ritcherson heir.
I am.
And everything Darcy holds dear should be mine.
