Taras was silent for a few moments, gaze flickering, then abruptly pushed out of his chair.
He crossed to the bar to retrieve the cognac, pausing there, staring at the bottle in his hand. Anger roiled through his chest, pulsing with every breath.
After a few seconds, he gave a sharp shake of his head.
"You're right," he muttered. "I am living well now, and that's something he doesn't have."
His shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh, then he turned around. Taras returned to where they were sitting, and poured them both a refill.
He handed Lasha his glass.
"I don't want what my father built. His business, or empire, or whatever you want to call it. I left that life for this one. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
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He crossed to the bar to retrieve the cognac, pausing there, staring at the bottle in his hand. Anger roiled through his chest, pulsing with every breath.
After a few seconds, he gave a sharp shake of his head.
"You're right," he muttered. "I am living well now, and that's something he doesn't have."
His shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh, then he turned around. Taras returned to where they were sitting, and poured them both a refill.
He handed Lasha his glass.
"I don't want what my father built. His business, or empire, or whatever you want to call it. I left that life for this one. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
He looked up at Lasha then.
"You don't have to worry. I won't do it."
Taras nodded slowly.
"...I'm a MENT now. My place is at your side."