ZANE'S POV
I knew what the meeting was about. And I didn't want to hear anything about that. The elevator door pinged open. I stepped out first, and made my way to the huge oak door that led to his office.
I pushed the button, and the door slid open. I stepped inside the lavishly furnished home office that covered half of the expanse of the last floor.
Father groaned, as he looked at us through his bulky glass frame. “There they are, three rascals I call my sons,” He reclined further into the plush leather chair. He stared at us with bored eyes, “Care to tell your old man what you've been up to tonight?”
He knew.
Whenever it had to do with us, the paparazzi was quick to release the goddamn clips to the internet. Asides the flamboyant privileged lifestyle we flaunted, there was a
