Page 66 of Protective Phlox

NATHANIEL

My hand clenched into a fist. I raised it, prepared to slam it on the desk, but one glance at Cutter playing in the corner of my office, and I lowered it down.

“What do you mean he is not taking my calls,” I growled low, picturing ripping the head off the guy on the other end of the line.

“Just what I said. Cesare says he is not taking your calls at this time. He said to leave a message, and when he’s free, he will call you back.”

Standing up, I marched to the furthest corner away from Cutter and turned my back to him.

“You tell Cesare that he either calls me back or I’ll make sure that he not only loses his seat on the council, but I will come for everyone he loves next. He has until tomorrow at noon, or I will release everything I have on him and his dealings behind the other council member’s backs. I doubt he’d like every family turning on him. Twenty-four hours, not a minute more.”

I hit End and wished that I had a landline that I could smash. This man was either the idiot of all idiots, or he had more ego than my father, and that was saying a lot because I didn’t think anyone could be more of a prick than that man.

The knock had me turning around, but I smirked as Cutter got up and ran to the door.

“Who is it,” he called through the wood.

“Ivan.”

Cutter looked at me, and I nodded before he grabbed the handle and turned the knob. Every day, he changed so much. It was astounding to watch. As soon as the door opened, Ivan stepped in and grabbed Cutter before he could take off. Cutter squealed as Ivan threw him in the air and then burst into a fit of laughter as he pretended he was a rocket ship launching.

“Were you coming in here for a reason or just to play with my son,” I asked, but I wasn’t really upset. All my guards had taken to Cutter like he was theirs. The more protective they were, the more invested they’d be in keeping him safe.

Ivan set Cutter down, and he ran at me with his arms open. I couldn’t describe the feeling of seeing my son, and I sometimes caught myself staring at him in wonder and astonishment that he was actually mine.

Bending down, I opened my arms and braced for the leap. I’d gotten good at pretending to be tackled, but this time, I just grabbed Cutter and swung him up into my arms.

“I have to tell you, Boss, it’s weird looking at the two of you. He’s like a mini you, just with no pickle shoved where the sun doesn’t shine.”

I glared at Ivan. He smiled back. The guards were getting way too bold and speaking their minds ever since Savannah ripped me a new one in front of them. I had a feeling that if forced to choose, they would take her side over mine.

“You’re funny,” I said

“Why would you put a pickle where there is no sun?” Cutter tapped his chin. “Do they grow like mushrooms?”

Ivan burst out laughing. I was seriously going to hit him.

“Now look what you’ve done,” I said, shaking my head.

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re older, buddy,” Ivan said, holding out his knuckles for Cutter to hit.

“Did you have a real reason for coming in here?”

“Yeah, we have a situation at the front door?”

I immediately went on high alert, my back stiffening. Savannah was out with my mom, Kaylani, and a slew of guards to do some wedding shopping, but that didn’t make me feel better if there was trouble.

“Then why do you seem so calm?”

“Because this is one situation I think you’ll enjoy handling.”

My curiosity was officially piqued. With Cutter in one arm, I followed Ivan to the front door. It was standing open, but two guards were blocking my view. They wouldn’t leave the door open if they thought whoever was here was a real threat. I relaxed and took a deep breath. Cesare and his fucking games had made me extra paranoid. Of course, my father was no help and didn’t want to get involved because Savannah was not his choice, and as he put it, “Could’ve set out to take down the council behind my back.”

He'd never given me credit for anything, so why I hoped he’d take my side when it came to my personal life was beyond my scope of understanding. The only thing I could chop it up to was a son hoping at some point to connect with his father.

Robert, who I’d graduated to the house detail for a few months, looked over his shoulder as we arrived and then stood off to the side so I could step out and see who was there. At the bottom of the steps was a man I didn’t recognize. He was slowly pacing the walkway and running his hand through his hair. I pegged him for either a tennis or golf player, someone who loved the life of the country clubs. He had the right physique and pretty boy looks that would go a long way in a place like that. The question was, who the hell was he, and why was he here?

“I understand you’re looking for me,” I said, and his head snapped up and looked my way. He had one of those faces I wanted to mess up, just because arrogant prick was the vibe he gave off like a stale, after-market cologne.