The Contract

Chapter 67-The Associates

TRAVIS'S P.O.V

"Cancel all events happening at Hercyns next Sunday," I ordered, handing Harrison the file.

"But sir, a convention has been set there on the—"

I shot him a look.

"Sure, sir." He nodded quickly and walked out.

Flipping to the next page of the notebook in front of me, I barely glanced up when Adrian strolled in.

"What's got you so busy?"

"Shouldn't you be in Brazil?" I asked, shutting the book.

"You sent for me," he replied, climbing the stairs and stopping at my desk.

"Right. We have to leave."

"I thought you said you'd never entertain their advances," he reminded me. "They’re starting to cross the line."

"Alright." He dropped a card on the table. I glanced at it before picking it up.

"RedCo is hosting Sienna this season," he explained. "Reject the invite," I said, dropping the card back down.

"I knew you'd say that. But may I bring to your attention—Mr. Benedicte Schneider has extended his interests to America. He’s looking to buy stakes and invest. He’ll be there, and I’m certain that’s why RedCo decided to host."

"Miller seems to be one step ahead," I muttered.

"Not for long," Adrian replied with a sly smile. "It’s a ball. Show up with the beautiful Mrs. Ferrari, and—"

I shot him a glare.

"I don’t appreciate you talking about my wife."

"You know, you don’t deserve her," he quipped, falling back onto the couch with a smirk.

Moments later

"You stay back here and handle things," I instructed.Y"How long will you be in Italy?" Adrian asked.

"Two days at most. I wouldn’t want to stay any longer than that."

He nodded.

As the car pulled to a stop, I glanced out the window before stepping out, buttoning my blazer. We were led inside, through a hall. The double doors swung open, and we stepped into the room.

The air was thick with tobacco, the lighting dim. We moved further in, passing men playing pool and placing bets on the side.

"Mr. Travis Ferrari," a voice called.

I stopped in my tracks and turned toward the bar.

"Mr. Simon Hastings," I greeted evenly.

Taking stock of the men seated around the room, I followed the invitation to sit at the table. I had vowed never to set foot in this place again, but this—this was a necessary evil to end everything.

"Welcome to Wild Society," Hastings said, pouring a drink into my glass.

I looked up at him.

"We’ve been expecting you. Here to take the rightful place of your father, I assume?"

"I’m here to do no such thing," I stated firmly. All eyes turned toward me.

"Then why are you here?"

Leaning back in my seat, I met each gaze head-on.

"My father founded this organization as a symbol of protection and wealth," I began. "But I’ve come to understand that things have taken a different direction."