Jamal asked from the front seat of the limo. Zeb Richards felt a smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “I was born ready.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. Finally, after all these years, Zeb was coming home to claim what was rightfully his. The Beaumont Brewery had—until very recently—been owned and operated by the Beaumont family. There were a hundred twenty-five years of family history in this building—history that Zeb had been deprived of. He was a Beaumont by blood. Hardwick Beaumont was Zeb’s father. But he was illegitimate. As far as he knew, outside of the payoff money Hardwick had given his mother, Emily, shortly after Zeb’s birth, no one in the Beaumont family had ever acknowledged his existence. He was tired of being ignored. More than that, he was tired of being denied his rightful place in the Beaumont family. So he was finally taking what was rightfully his.
