by Lana Grayson
“They might have.”
She nodded with a pursing of her lips. “Some things aren’t meant to be.”
And some things in the world were cruel and unfair. The house stood too silent without my brothers rumbling down the stairs, late for school, late for a date, late for work. Dad called them irresponsible. They were the greatest men in the world.
They never should have died.
Too many things went wrong, and too many lives destroyed with theirs.
It should have ended with Dad.
I hated myself for considering it.
I hated him for writing me out of the will, out of the company, out of the family.
“Dad never thought I was as good as them,” I said. “Did he?”
Mom stirred another lump of sugar into her tea. It was her third cube. She must not have remembered dropping the last one.
“He never saw you, Sprout,” she said. “Had he looked, he would have realized you were so much like him.”
“That’s not a good thing.”
“It can be. Mark was successful because he was shrewd. He saw his opportunities and did what he had to do. He provided for the family. Some people would call that ruthless. He considered it life.” She paused. “He died before his time. And your brothers…”
“Yeah.”
“But that’s in the past. No sense dwelling on such sadness. We have a new family to care for.”
Even half a state away, Darius Bennett turned my stomach.
“Mom, I want to take you far from here. I’m going to get you away from Darius.”
“Away from Darius? Whatever for?”
I stood, casting the cookie into the sink. “He’s evil, Mom. Absolutely evil.”
She gave me the same look she always did, as though my overactive imagination concocted another crazy story.
“You’ve never had any love for the Bennetts, but I hoped you’d try to come to terms with this—”
“If you knew the man he truly was—”
“Sarah, I’ve known Darius Bennett since I was thirteen years old, and I’ve loved him nearly as long.”
I stilled. “You what?”
“Darius and I were childhood sweethearts. Had his family not moved to San Jose and mine not entwined with the Atwoods…my life would certainly look very different.”
“You aren’t serious.”
“Our lives took separate paths, but nothing has made me happier than reuniting with the first man I ever loved. It’s healed a lot of wounds I thought impossible to mend. He’s given me a new hope.” She tapped her fingers over the teacup. “I’m not well, Sarah.”
“Don’t say that.” Any of it.
“Your brothers knew. They tried to help me, but I said they were being foolish. However, all the mourning and stress has only…strengthened the condition. I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry.”
“Mom—”
“Darius is a loyal husband. And you see he is a devoted father. He cares for me, and he cares a great deal for you. Please give him a chance, if only to grant me a bit of peace while we battle this next hurdle for our family.”
She was serious.
Every word, every hallowed implication, every failing hope.
She believed Darius would save her. I didn’t have the heart to warn her what happened when she trusted a Bennett with her life.
“You should have sold the company.” Mom stared only into her teacup. “You don’t need this stress. This hassle.”
“I could have handled it.”
“You weren’t meant to handle it,” she said. “I was glad he didn’t leave the company to you.”
“Mom—”
“Sell, Sarah. Before the Bennetts knock the price off our farm. Get every penny you can before they realize we don’t have a male heir to run the farm and that you…well, sweetheart, you’ll never have a baby.”
It wasn’t stopping them from trying. I let my voice drop. “I’m not selling. It isn’t even possible now that the clause is public. Besides, you don’t know the shit Darius is trying to pull to get the company.”
She tisked her tongue. “Don’t you fault Darius for being financially-driven. He could do a lot with this farm.”
“He’s not financially-driven. He’s vile.”
“Sarah, you are an Atwood. Mark Atwood’s daughter, no less.” Mom sighed. “No one is guiltless in this world. An Atwood loses their innocence very quickly.”
Only if it was stolen.
Strapped to a bed and taken.
Offered.
Given.
Savored by Nicholas Bennett every night thereafter in boundless passion. I gave myself to a man I didn’t know if I feared or trusted, loved or blamed.
The phone rang. I didn’t have to guess who called. I rose. Mom tapped her lips and promised a secret.
“Darius, love.” Mom breathed a gentle hello into the phone. “What a surprise. No, no. I’m not busy at all.”
I shook my head, prepared to run or hide or fight. Neither of my options would keep us safe.
“Sarah?” Mom looked at me. “No, I haven’t seen her. Isn’t she with you?”
I mouthed a thank you. She nodded.
“Oh, yes, I’ll call you the instant she comes by. Let me know if you hear from her. Love you too.”
She returned the phone to the cradle. My heart lurched into my throat.
“Mom, you won’t tell Darius about my infertility, will you?”
She chuckled. “Of course not, sweetheart. That’s the sort of issue you need only to discuss with your future husband. It isn’t my place to tell. But Darius does know some wonderful doctors…when you do meet that right man, of course.”
I feared I had already found the right man.
Or maybe I loved the wrong man who consumed everything innocent inside me.
I stood, stepping into Mom’s hug.
“I gotta go,” I said. “Just…be careful.”
“Unless I develop an allergy to corn, I’m perfectly safe.” She frowned at her packed bag dropped in the middle of the hall. “Sprout, don’t forget your things.”
A punch to the gut hurt less than my forced smile.
“I’ll come back for it.”
She kissed me goodbye, and I didn’t want to think it might have been the last time.
I hurried to Reed’s car. Darius wouldn’t trust my mother, and my step-brothers could fly a helicopter. They’d search for me at the farm first.
But only Nicholas knew where I’d ultimately go.
If he hadn’t already stopped the meeting from happening.
Three and a half hours of aggravation, panic, and traffic did little to ease my fraying nerves. I pulled into Roman Wescott’s building with a pounding headache and the clutching fear that every Bennett would await my arrival.
But I was alone.
And Roman Wescott welcomed me into his office with a waved hand and concerned frown.
Without the pretense of the tux and gown, I feared he saw me for what I was—a fleck of blonde, petite and slim, clutching a purse that hid two different types of asthma medications. He wasn’t Darius Bennett, but I couldn’t be sure the wealth the Bennett family provided hadn’t lined his pockets and warped his mind.
And just because he made a deal with my father and brothers didn’t mean he was sympathetic to any of the Atwood causes. If he was so willing to sell his stake in the Bennett Corporation to their lifelong rivals, was it even worth trusting him?
My world shrunk the instant I escaped the claustrophobia of the estate. I had no one to trust and everyone to fear.
Roman Wescott offered me a chair. I crossed my legs, hoping the pleasant sundress and windswept hair appeared business casual.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” I said. I admired the sleek, modern office, filled with glass tabletops and a view of downtown San Jose. “You have a lovely office—”
“Ms. Atwood.” Roman’s dark eyebrows rose. “Skip the pleasantries. I know why
you’re here.”
“I suppose you do.”
“You want the Bennett Corporation.”
I mimicked Nicholas’s practiced stillness and rested my hands on my knee. “No. My interest in the Josmik Trust is…personal. I’m simply acting toward a resolution.”
“But, once the trust is awarded to you, you will possess a considerable interest in the Bennett Corporation.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want complete control of Darius Bennett’s company?”
I tiptoed around the question. “If it’s in the best interests of my investment. But you would not have entered an agreement with my father and brothers had you not anticipated that particular outcome.”
“True,” he said. His dark countenance revealed nothing.
“So why did you do it?”
His chair creaked as he leaned away. “Do what?”
“Why did you agree to sell your interest in the Bennett Corporation to the Atwoods? You know the history and the feuds—”
He wagged a finger. “No. I don’t. Any rivalry between the Atwoods and Darius Bennett existed solely between the families. I didn’t invest my fortune in a petty family squabble. I’ve chosen to secure my wealth in a company bound for success and driven by profit and innovation. That is why my father partnered with John Bennett. And that is why, when Mark Atwood approached me, I agreed to terms. Darius Bennett is not his father. He is not protecting my investment.”
All good news.
“I am not my father either,” I said. “I’m not Josiah, and I’m not Mike. But I am an Atwood. Success runs in my veins. We draw it from the very soil itself. You can trust me with your investment. The contractual amount for your shares is held in escrow, waiting to be finalized.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“So why not sell early?” I asked. “If you no longer trust the direction of the Bennett Corporation, sell now, before the stock dips or…any other unpleasant circumstance endangers the company.”
“And what unpleasant circumstance would that be, Ms. Atwood?” Roman’s eyes flashed like marble. “You do see the…complications this sale poses, don’t you?”
What did he know? How many members of the board understood my captivity? How many encouraged Darius’s plot?
Why wouldn’t he just sign and avoid the danger of such a conspiracy?
“I’m doing what I must to protect my family’s interests and secure my father and brothers’ final project,” I said. “It was their decision to approach the members of the Bennett board.”
“I highly doubt they anticipated the challenges that would arise for you.”
“Nevertheless, I am willing to face those challenges.”
“Indeed. Here you are. Asking me to amend an agreement to destroy a company which yielded me a profit over the years. You’re asking me to ruin my personal and business interests even though you were not present in the initial negotiations.” He smiled, but not for my benefit. “Ms. Atwood, the only reason you sit before me is because you are the last surviving Atwood.”
I nodded. “It’s true.”
“It’s much to ask from a young woman managing a legacy her father never intended her to have.”
“Ask yourself, Mr. Wescott. Do you believe Darius Bennett will protect your family’s investments in the future?”
“It’s unlikely.”
“There’s your answer.”
“What is your incentive, Ms. Atwood?” He bid me to reveal more than I wished. “You are a billionaire heiress. What do you need with this potential revenue?”
“I have many reasons.”
“Name one.”
Survival. Revenge. Blood.
I swallowed.
“Security,” I said.
“Are you sure it won’t just endanger you more?”
“Nothing can endanger me more.”
“Maybe.” He sighed, folding his palms. “I want to help you, Sarah Atwood.”
I didn’t react. “Mr. Wescott, it isn’t help. This is a business arrangement which will benefit us both.”
“Please understand this decision does not come lightly. I have spent my life working for the Bennett Corporation—investing time and money and energy into a family I supported.”
“I understand.”
“Nicholas Bennett is a strong leader. He would lead his family and corporation to success.”
“I completely agree.”
Roman shook his head. “He would. If he were given the opportunity.”
The hair on my neck prickled.
“I bear no resentment for Nicholas Bennett.”
“Maybe you should.”
I didn’t respond. Roman leaned in, his hard stare revealing a lifetime of secrecy. He was no older than Nicholas, and yet he radiated wisdom, mystery, and danger. Though he was quite attractive, his words haunted me.
“I’ll agree to the amendments, Ms. Atwood. You can inherit your trust and engage the Bennett Corporation as you see fit—under one condition.”
I didn’t like conditions discussed without a lawyer or witness.
“Darius Bennett is not a good man,” he said. “His plans have severe consequences for everyone in the corporation, and his hatred lives on in his sons.”
I said nothing. He held my gaze.
“Ms. Atwood, I will consider signing this agreement only if you agree that the stock you receive, the interests you control, and the power you’ll possess in the Bennett Corporation remain yours.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If you want this trust, you will assume control of the Bennett Corporation.” His command stopped my heart. “And you will never sell your control back to Nicholas Bennett.”
14
Sarah
I thought the estate was empty when I returned.
I was wrong.
Darius Bennett seized me in the foyer. I shouted, but his hand curled around my neck before I could call for help. His fingers stained with blood.
He squeezed.
It wasn’t the first time I couldn’t breathe in his presence.
“Where have you been, my dear?” The slithery rasp of his voice did not pretend to be kind. “We’ve been so worried about you.”
I said nothing. His grip tightened.
Hard.
Too hard.
I coughed. It made no difference. My hands clawed at his hold even though struggling would only excite him.
Darius liked when I tried to fight him. I’d learned that the hard way.
My pounding heart broke. Had I been quick, had I not panicked and went to find Mom, I might have made it back before anyone but Reed knew I had gone.
Now the estate stood quiet. Empty halls and emptier rooms awaited me, despite leaving Reed chained to the bed for too long. Way too long.
My step-brothers weren’t home.
Nicholas wasn’t here.
Only Darius.
I was alone with a monster who trapped with a grip more demonic claw than hand.
“You’ve been very naughty.”
Darius held me close. The decaying brown of his eyes hardened with something worse than his usual threats. Delight? Anticipation? It curdled my stomach.
“You know you aren’t allowed to leave the grounds without permission.” His attention cast down, practically shredding through my dress. “You know you aren’t permitted to leave your brothers’ beds.”
That tone. His words gambled between youthful chastisement and lechery, and every melodic syllable and growled intent promised something sick. His sadism rivaled only his perversion. He whispered terrible secrets against my flesh.
“You do not disobey your father.” He cupped my cheeks with both hands, bumping his forehead to mine. What might have been fatherly compassion disgusted me, his every touch a march of stinging insects that coiled over my spine. “Does Daddy have to punish you?”
I shook my head. I’d play his game and stay quiet.
I’d do whatever he wanted if
he’d let me go.
Killing me wasn’t the worst thing Darius Bennett could do.
He wouldn’t stop until I begged for death.
And I would.
God, I knew I would.
I tried to be brave. Tried to pretend Darius had no control over me. Tried to lie to Nicholas every morning when he woke me from my nightmares. He chased away the fear with gentle hands and gentler reassurances. Then, I felt safe.
Now my lungs filled with Darius’s stale scent, a blend of cigar and leather. His drifted his paws from my cheek to my shoulders. He leered as I began to tremble.
I swore I’d never let Darius see me afraid of him.
He wouldn’t give me a choice.
“You are a spoiled little whore,” Darius whispered. “Do you think you have the right to look us in the eyes? To argue with us? To run from us?”
His nails dug into my elbows.
It wasn’t his blood that stained his skin.
“Do you know what I’ll do to you?”
I didn’t let myself guess. I wouldn’t explore that dark and terrible place in his mind.
“I can starve you. Beat you.” He licked his lips. “I can ensure you’re raped every hour on the hour until your belly bloats with a child. I don’t care if you’re in pain or frightened or cold. The only thing I care about is right here.” He cupped my stomach, low, aiming for the womb he didn’t realize was barren. “If you don’t start to grow a little Bennett soon, Daddy’s going to be very disappointed in you.”
I nodded.
“Come with me, my dear.”
Darius grasped my wrist, tugging as he led me to the stairs. His fingers crushed my bone, but I’d wrench my hand off if it meant escaping him.
No.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They promised it wouldn’t happen. That they’d protect me. Nicholas swore he wouldn’t let his father touch me again.
But they weren’t here. They were looking for me. Darius jerked my arm. Something terrible in my wrist popped. I yelped, but he didn’t care.
Darius dragged me up the stairs, into the darkness of the estate.
Why did I come back?
Why didn’t I just run?
Why did I do this to myself?
Nicholas.
I wanted Nicholas.
I wanted the chance to be with him and love him and escape with him. No matter the horror or pain or demons, I needed him. We struggled to build a life in shadow even when we knew it’d incinerate the instant it came to light.
