Billionaire's Second Chance At Love

Chapter Ninety-Six

"Look, Johnny. I don't care how much money it takes; just get me the hell out of this state," James barked into the phone, brows deeply furrowed as he sat in the passenger seat and watched his nephew drive.

"I'm doing my best, Logan boy!" Johnny's voice came from the other side, not sounding happy. "It's not my fault my contact is out of reach. He must be on some business; else, he wouldn't ignore my calls."

"Don't mess with me! Just get me the damn ticket out of this place. I'm on my way to the club." Disconnected.

Eric, who had been listening to the entire conversation, adjusted his hands on the steering wheel. "Is there some problem?"

"Nothing you need to care about." James snapped.

But Eric didn't like the tone. He scowled. "You know what? You can either ask people to do your shit nicely, or you can just go and screw yourself and do everything alone." He was fed up—completely fed up. Since he walked into the damn warehouse this morning, the older man had been nothing but a pain in the ass. Eric didn't know how long he could stomach this shitty attitude—the man was seriously getting on his nerves.

James probably realized his mistakes and slumped back into the seat, suddenly tired. "You're right. Of course. I'm just...not feeling good about this." He shook his head slowly, eyes on the road ahead. "I mean, I knew this would happen sooner or later, but I didn't expect myself to get so shaken up. Dad really caught me off guard with all that confrontation. He just...what if he opened his mouth and told everything to everyone..." He trailed off. But then he scoffed and rolled his eyes. Who the hell was he kidding? If he knew his father any better, he knew the truth was out in the open long before he came to confront him.

Eric noticed the bitter look on James' face. "What is it?"

James glanced at Eric before letting out an irritated sigh. "I'm thinking everyone probably knows about us."

"Us?" Eric's brows shot up. "There's no 'us,' James. What the hell are you talking about? What did Grandpa say? Did he know about me too? Did he mention me?"

"Oh, shut the hell up!" James' own frustration was reaching a boiling point. "He knows. I don't know how, but he does. Why else do you think I told you to come with me? We are leaving this place together, do you hear me? I'm not leaving you behind so you could snitch behind my back."

Eric gripped the steering wheel tighter. "No. It's impossible. I don't believe you. They don't know. If Grandpa didn't mention it, then he doesn't know."

"Believe what you want, but I'm not taking any chances. We need to get out of here, far away, before things get worse."

But Eric couldn't stop thinking about it. For obvious reasons, he couldn't shake off the anxiety of being judged by his entire family. He might have his issues with Ronin, but he loved his parents. And Carmen. He loved her so much too. Could she have found out too? Would she hate him for the role he had played in the attacks on Ronin?

Then again, why should he care about what she thought of him? Didn't she choose Ronin that day when they both went to bring her back after the accident? She chose Ronin, not him. She probably didn't care about him at all.

In no time, the car pulled up in front of a tall brick building. The club was closed for business during the day, and the roads were empty except for a few cars parked along the streets.

James and Eric hopped out of the car and went inside the building through the back door. They entered a small storage room, leading to a huge kitchen space. A young boy in his early twenties looked busy with a mop, earphones stuffed in his ears.

James snapped his fingers in front of the boy to get his attention. "Where is Johnny?"

The boy paused, looking up and frowned. He tugged on an earphone. "What?"