Free His to Claim by Sierra Jaid

after the death of their father. Damian was the son to their parents who could never do wrong, and Trevor was the one who hadn’t ever learnt to do right.
    He had disliked the infallibility of his older brother till the day he had matured himself to realise what a damned lucky bastard he was to have got a brother like Damian.
    Once Damian held himself accountable for you, there was no power in the world that would sway him from doing what he thought was best for you. He was a rock you could always count on to stand by you.
    But along the way, this rock had forgotten he possessed a heart. A heart that, Trevor suspected, might have frozen, but wasn’t yet stone-dead.
    “Poor Theodore looked harangued.” It was Trevor’s opening statement as Damian rang off. Starting on a neutral topic seemed like the best course.
    Damian lifted his head up from the contemplative study of the phone. Whatever had been on his face was deftly swept off upon seeing his wee brother.
    Reposing on the winged-back black leather chair, reflection of his thoughts gone, he said, “I am the CEO. Do I not harangue my employees when they muck up, they succumb to shirking, and soon the entire order of the company is crumbling. If keeping food on the table of those who work for us, and indulging the reckless antics of my wee brother require I harangue, then harangue I will.”
    “Put like that, I doona ‘ave much of a case.” Trevor plopped into one of the two chairs on this side of the wide desk in-between, and splayed his long legs on the floor crossing them at the ankles. “Sae, what’s the calamity that ye wanted tae see me sae urgently?”
    “My errant Chairman and Director of McBain Industries.” Damian cagily intimated.
    “Me?” Trevor picked up a brow, innocently.
    “Aye, ye. What was sae important that ye returned tae States from Scotland, jeopardising the project entrusted in yer hands by the board?” Blue eyes, much as Trevor’s, gave him a gimlet stare. “It wouldna be a lass, would it?”
    When Trevor didn’t make a reply, but continued the unbroken intensity of their challenging stare, Damian said, “Women can be had fo’ as wee a trinket as in gold and diamond. Dangle it before their bonny faces an’ they would gladly claw anyone of their own tae reach ye first. Doona waste time an’ energy chasing after ‘em.”
    “She isna one of those.” Irritation swarmed in Trevor.
    “If she isna one of those who want a monied cock tae keep cuming in her bank vault, then she is the only other kind ye need tae watch out fo’.”
    “What kind is that?”
    Damian gave him a vulpine smile. “The ones who’ll keep playing ye intae trusting her as the woman of yer fantasies, then one day when the glamour has worn off, too late ye’ll realise, wedded, she had permanently snagged yer arse fo’ her own.”
    “I doona believe ye.” Trevor said bitingly.
    Sardonic gaze moved from Trevor to the opened laptop in front. “Mother was the latter kind.” This vulgar proclamation was made in a flat, clinically detached tone.
    Trevor didn’t need to look in Damian’s eyes to know that his brother unquestioningly believed this of their mother.
    The irony here was, even after having gotten to spend most time with their parents Damian detested them, while Trevor who had loved them, had had craved for their tiniest affection, their smallest praise for as long as they had lived.
    And for this iniquity in their upbringing, Trevor, somewhat, still envied his brother.
    “Ye swine, Damian. Yer talking aboot yer own mother.” Indignant, he leapt from his chair and turned to leave the rotting scum to his bogged mind.
    “The truth doona change fo’ yer no’ wanting tae hear it.” Trevor heard Damian speak, but he was too disgusted with his brother to stop.
    “I know aboot Elaine.”
    That stopped him in his tracks.
    “Aye, I ken it’s her ye came back fo’.”
    Trevor slowly, insidiously spun back. “I want tae marry, Elaine.”
    He was