“My father called me on Friday. He wanted to see me, to discuss my ‘future,’” Declan said.

“What future?”

“My future with MLS.”

“The fuck?” Mason growled, turning to look at him.

Declan squeezed the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes closed as a headache began to pound.

“He reminded me of a clause that was in my contract when I took the loan from them for my first hotel.”

“How is that clause still in effect?” Barry asked, ...