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Michael "Mike" Rowan sat in his office looking over paperwork. He hadn't wanted to follow the family business at all. He'd been studying archaeology at Zootopia University when his older brother, Chris, died in law school. He'd never gotten along with Chris, not even when they were kits. Chris was three years older than Mike, and he'd been much much larger. He'd taken every opportunity to embarrass his little brother at every turn, calling it, "Good clean fun." Since both their parents worked long hours, their father was a lawyer and their mother a doctor, they never interfered. He'd also had to put up with Chris' exploits.

It had started in Junior High. Their parents were rarely home, so Chris would throw parties, making Mike clean them up afterwards. He'd sneak girls up to his room when he wasn't throwing parties and sometimes when he was. By the time, he'd gotten into High School, Chris had managed to garner a bit of a reputation, which only continued into college. He was the family stud, and Mike was his bitch, even though Chris had never molested his little brother. The nickname was mostly derived from how he made his little brother fix all his messes, something that Mike hated doing.

The tod chuffed as he stared to remember all the bullshit Chris had put him through. The thing that really rubbed his fur the wrong way was how his parents refused to believe that Chris had been a rotten apple, even after he'd managed to contract and die from the Animal Immunity Virus. Mike knew all too well what his older brother had gotten up to. Chris had knocked up several vixens, something he'd worn like a badge of honor. Mike had learned that all of them except one had taken a morning after pill, and he'd even been there when that one vixen had ripped his brother a new tailhole in front of entire school. Even then, though, Chris had acted like it was some kind of honor to know that he'd have a bastard.

"It's a sign of how virile I am," the tod had bragged to his little brother not long after the incident, "You'll be lucky to be someone's jizz rag."

Mike growled at being called that. Just because he was smaller didn't mean he was gay, it just meant that he hadn't gotten whatever genetic mistakes had led to his older brother. Of course, after the incident, Chris hadn't managed to get any girl to come back to his car with him, so he turned to the next best thing; girly boys. He'd even brag about that too, telling his little brother about all the bitch boys he had begging for his cock.

Chris was an ass. He even managed to be an ass on his death bed, attempting to blame the whole thing on one of the tods he'd slept with. The worst part was that he'd managed to contract the disease and spread it around. Mike wasn't entirely sure when his older brother had contracted AIV, but he was fairly sure that the jackass tod had managed to spread it around before he ended up with complications.

The worst part of all this, was that Chris had been family. Mike hated Chris, and when Chris ended up in the hospital, he wanted to tell him that it was some kind of poetic justice for everything he did, but he'd never been able to bring himself to say it. In the end, Mike just pitied him.

Though the pity returned to hate when their father outright ordered him to change majors. "I don't want my firm going over to that shrew, Mousekewitz," the old fox had growled at his son on the ride back from the funeral, "You're going to have to take over the family business."

Mike had vehemently protested. Why should he have to pay for his brother's mistakes? He was the one who stuck his cock into anything that was warm and moist, not Mike. Mike had been a good boy, treating people with respect, not as his next ride. No. It came down to, "preserving legacy," and, "honoring your brother."

"Honoring Chris? Are you fucking serious," Mike had snarled out, or at least he had wished he had, "Chris didn't know a damn thing about honor. Do you know how many times women came to him sobbing about him getting them pregnant? Do you know he has a kit with a woman he refused to marry? Did you know that he fucked her once and then told her to fuck off?"

Mike had shuddered in rage at his parent's ignorance to Chris' transgressions. They had built up an idea of him in their minds and no amount of truth was ever going to destroy that. Chris had managed to ruin his life from the grave.

Mike had struggled through pre-Law and Law School. He'd hated every minute of it. The only "bright" side to it was him immediately becoming a partner at his father's firm, the old tod changing the name to Rowan, Rowan, & Mousekewitz. While his father and Mr. Mousekewitz would often be the faces in court if any cases brought to them went that far, Mike was usually the face everyone saw first when they brought their cases to them. It had been his father's idea to show everyone how, "Young and Vibrant the company is."

His father was great at lying, then again, he was a lawyer. The firm of course dabbled in many different kinds of law, though they tended to lean more towards civil law than criminal law. Right now, though, he was neck deep in trying to execute a last will and testimony his father had pawned off on him. It was the Schaiferhund case from last year. The couple had died in a car accident and left everything to their son, much to the anger and dismay of the husband's ex-wife and her children. It had been stuck in litigation for almost fourteen months as the ex-wife assembled her team of lawyers to challenge the will.

So far, no one had heard more than a peep from the beneficiary, the Schaiferhund's adopted son, Ray. Then again, Mike wasn't exactly surprised. Ray had a job and a life, where the ex-wife was living with family. The last thing he was thinking about was how to fight a woman he'd never known about property that had been promised to him after a divorce.

The fox looked up and down the paperwork. Everything was straight forward. The ex-wife didn't have any claim to the property whatsoever because she'd signed over those rights during the divorce paperwork, which had been handled by Mr. Mousekewitz fourty years earlier. Heck, the firm had even helped with the adoption paperwork. Mike just shook his head as he started reading more and more. "I should probably give Mr. Schaiferhund a call to let him know his father's ex-wife doesn't have a case," he muttered to himself as he picked up the phone and started to dial the cell phone number listed under the contact information.