Page 23 of Desperate Measures

The respect.

I'd fought tooth and nail for this, and I wasn’t about to let anyone think it was just handed to me.

No, this was the result of tons of hours of thought, sweat, strategy, and some well-played risks.

Plans. Big plans.

That’s what it had all boiled down to.

Plans my sister had no idea about, but that was for later. Maggie might be the boss of the family, but I was the CEO of our legit business.

She ran the shadier side of things, managed the family legacy, and all that.

But O’Doyle Industries? That was mine.

And for all the strength and influence she had in this world, Maggie had no say whatsoever about how I ran things at ODI.

She might not like it, but she’d learn to respect it. She had to. This wasn’t about power struggles between us—it was about building something that could stand on its own.

A future that didn’t hinge on the whims of our family dynamics.

Sure, she was the one who kept the old traditions alive, made sure we all showed up atfamilydinners with our best faces on.

But maybe those old family values should’ve just died along with our bastard of a father.

I wasn’t about following anyone's rules when it came to my vision. I wasn’t interested in her blueprint or anyone else’s.

My business.

My decisions.

Marrying Michaela wasn’t my idea, but it was done now. And it didn’t freak me out like it should have. In fact, it seemed to unlock something inside me,

This is just a merger.Don’t start getting ideas.

I glanced at the reflection of myself in the window. The same angst filled look was still there.

I’d had too many late nights and early mornings over the past month, but I was still hungry. Inside my eyes, I saw the spark of something more.

Something bigger.

Something phenomenal starting to burn through.

And nothing was going to put it out. I needed this to work to finally get out from under Maggie’s thumb. She was too into running things the old way.

But I wanted more from life than to be the son, or brother, of an out of touch mobster.

If being married to a spoiled princess could get it for me, then I could do that. Hell, I’d marry Michaela Volkov five fucking times if she could deliver her father’s aid.

From my time with Viper Enterprises and Volkov Industries, I learned how all those original bad boys made their money.

I managed to piece together the real story of how the Dark Wolf, Adrik Volkov, and his brother Marat had started their business by buying up mines where rare earth minerals needed for tech like smart phones and light bulbs were harvested.

In the early days, when money was still tight, those who refused to sell to the brothers seemed to meet with unfortunate accidents, complaints, permit problems, government sanctions—you name it, those guys felt it—that was, until they saw the wisdom of selling. And for a bargain, of course.

Fucking legend.

The Vipers were not that different. Those Jersey boys managed to gain control of all the major ports from Newark to Jersey City.