Page 53 of Hate On
Did he hedge his bet and try to buy a little more time?
In the end, he did the only logical thing.
“Julianna and I are involved, Dad.”
The confused expression on Michael Montrose’s stern face might have been almost comical if Roman hadn’t known what was coming next. He stood there, braced for it, both hands on the surface of his desk as he waited.
For several seconds, nothing happened, but as Michael’s expression bled from blank to furious, Roman went on the offensive.
“We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months. What we have together is personal,” Roman said stiffly, feeling his back go up simply at the disgust forming on his father’s face. “It’s personal. It has nothing to do with business. And for the record, I can see whoever I like. This family feud is…” He stopped, shaking his head in irritation. “Julianna and I don’t even know shit about what started it and it doesn’t matter to us. We’re involved and that’s it.”
For a few seconds, there was utter silence in Roman’s office.
Then it was shattered as Michael exploded. “That’sit?” he thundered.
He’d failed to shut the door behind him when he came in, and behind him, Roman could see several people pause, looking inside the doorway before scurrying off to parts unknown, eager to get out of the way. Michael Montrose didn’t lose his temper often, but when he did? Hereallylost it and nobody wanted to be around for it.
Blue eyes, so like Roman’s, blazed with rage as Michael slammed his hands down on the desk. A vein pulsed in his temple, highlighting the fury that stamped his features. “I would suggest that you think all of this through a second time, boy. Shit…you think this ispersonal? To aCastle? That’s bullshit, son.Everythingis business with the Castles. You’re setting yourself up for a one bitch of a betrayal.”
“No,” Roman said calmly. “I’m not.”
Shoving back from the desk, Michael pointed a finger at his son. “Do you want to stay a VP in this company? Retain your shares in the business?”
The threat came as something of a shock. Something. But it wasn’t a complete surprise. Roman had known his father would be furious if he found out about the relationship.
“Are you really going to make the threat because I’ve got feelings for a woman who hasnothingto do with you?Nothingto do with this stupid feud you’ve got going on?” Roman demanded.
“She’s a fuckingCastle!”
“This bullshit fight you’ve got going on with Charles Castle started before Julianna or I were even born!” Roman fired back at him, his own anger starting to burn like a bright, fiery ball. “Why should we pay for a problem that started with the two of you!”
“End this relationship,” Michael said instead of responding to his son’s comment. He pointed a long, thick finger at his son’s nose, his hand trembling slightly from the depth of his rage. “Over my dead body will a Montroseeverbe involved in a relationship with a Castle.”
“You’re looking pretty hale and hearty,” Roman snapped. “And I’m in a relationship with a Castle now. And Idon’tplan on ending it.”
“You’re willing to throw your career away for this woman? Your whole fucking life?” Red-faced, Michael glared at his son.
“Are you ready to throw your son away for some feud?” Roman returned. “Your so-calledfavoriteson? What matters more? Your hatred for the Castles or your love for me?”
Michael looked nonplussed for just a moment, mouth slightly agape. Then he snapped his jaw shut. “If you hadanylove or respect for me, you never would have started this so-called relationship. Don’t go lecturing me about love.”
“Since when do you putlimitson how I’m allowed to love?” Roman said. The complete hypocrisy of the entire conversation stunned him. “I’m not going to tell you that I’ll only love you if you behave the wayIsay. That’s not how love works, you bigoted piece of work.”
“You…” Shaking now with anger, Michael shook his head. “I raised you. I gave you every advantage you had in life. And you want to treat me this way?”
“I’m not treating youanyway!” Frustration, bitter and hot, boiled in Roman’s throat. “I love you. You’re my father. But I’m not seven years old anymore. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life. I’m not an eleven-year-old boy with a concussion—you don’t get to move me out of some sick girl’s room at the hospital and throw your weight around because things aren’t going your way! If I want to see Julianna Castle, I will.”
“No.” Michael simply shook his head and turned on his heel. On his way out, he slammed the door.
Roman grabbed the stapler from his desk and turned, hurling it across the room. It hit the heavy plate glass window of his corner office and bounced off, springing open as it hit the carpet. Staples rained out as he stood there, breathing heavily.
“That went rather well,” he muttered.
His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it as he fought to control the rage as it trembled through him.
A few seconds later, there was a timid knock at his door.
“What is it?” he asked, keeping his voice level through sheer will alone.