Children of Dynasty Read Online Free PDF

his daughter out of your mind.”
    If only it were that simple. Mariah was his haven from the world and believing she felt the same kept him fighting.
    “I don’t need your money or your company. I’ll change my major.”
    “I’m paying the university.”
    “I’ll get a scholarship.”
    “A word from me, and the Stanford committee, or any other school, would lose your application.” Davis paced like a caged coyote. “You think you don’t need money? If you’re parking cars would John Grant’s daughter look at you twice?”
    The windmill he jousted overwhelmed Rory. Even if he were willing to throw away his birthright, Mariah would still wear the albatross of Grant Development. Despite her youth, he could see her commitment to running the company would never falter.
    With that decision eight years in the past, Rory was again in the library, determined to remain cool whatever happened.
    His father went to the sideboard and poured single malt scotch without offering one. Then he moved toward his throne, an imposing high-backed chair of smooth reddish wood mined from South Africa’s ancient railroad ties. Years of habit dictated Rory take the opposite seat. Tonight he stood.
    “I’m sorry you had to hear that between me and your mother.” Davis’s tone was familiar, political, as he cupped his drink in both hands, and swished it around.
    Rory forced a shrug. “I’ve heard you fight before.” He paused. “Well, not like that.”
    Davis’s expression sharpened. “Are your negative feelings about marriage based on our troubles?”
    “Some are.” But an image of Elizabeth’s chocolate brown eyes, her face etched in lines of sadness when they had decided to end it made him go on, “Have you forgotten I’m divorced?”
    Davis played deaf. “You know what an advantage marrying your mother was. The Mainwearing position helped assure DCI’s place in this city.”
    Several times since Rory’s divorce, his father had pointed out a woman, discussing her potential advantages as though contemplating a corporate merger.
    “Don’t even think of going there,” he cautioned.
    “I’m afraid we have to.” Davis gave a tight smile. “Son, I’m talking about Sylvia Chatsworth. I know you’ve been seeing her.”
    Rory could not deny that for the past few months, Sylvia’s black gaze had intrigued, but his father’s matchmaking made every instinct in him seize up. “I don’t love her.”
    “You don’t marry for love but for the right reasons,” Davis plowed on.
    “Sylvia and I have had good times, but I won’t make her my wife.” He grabbed the decanter, fumbled with the stopper, and poured a splash of single malt. “Marrying Elizabeth on the rebound was a disaster.” In the years between, he’d strengthened his walls, been unable to give Elizabeth what she deserved.
    And Mariah … Rory drank to keep the words inside.
    Seven years ago, he’d told her he loved her. That boy had fallen for her with his whole heart, bought the white house and the picket fence myth, mixed up somehow with believing he and Mariah could build a corporate empire together. Now, his failed marriage, and the poor state of his parents’ union, had made him a far different man.
    He wasn’t sure what love meant anymore.

     
    The political fundraiser was in full swing when Rory escorted Sylvia Chatsworth to the top of the Marriott. Beyond fan-shaped glass walls, the towers of the Bay Bridge marched toward Oakland. Tall buildings cast sunset shadows on the San Francisco streets where conventioneers and taxis mingled to their mutual advantage.
    Rory already regretted keeping the date with Sylvia, arranged before he’d seen Mariah again, and before his father had tried shoving him toward the Senator’s daughter. He checked Sylvia’s vermilion leather coat and moved into the main room, savoring the fact that his parents were out of town for the weekend.
    “There’s the heir to Grant Development again,” Sylvia said in an ugly