Takeover: The Complete Series

by Lana Grayson

Nicholas approached only to adjust the cuffs binding me to the bed, tight enough to prevent me from escaping the estate as the Bennetts attended their function for the night.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Ms. Atwood.”

  Everything had to go right tonight.

  Everything.

  Reed organized beautiful events for his foundation, mostly to entertain the deep pockets of the donors he courted. He chose a conservatory for this event, and it felt natural for me to walk amongst the budded flowers trapped within artificial gardens.

  Nicholas and Max escorted me as far as the first glassed atrium housing the string quartets and bustling servers. Champagne and hors d'oeuvres passed between bubbling fountains and beautiful sculptures.

  We waited to make our entrance. Exotic tropical flowers shielded us in a curtain of meticulously trimmed vines. The black dress might have concealed me in sophistication at any other event. Here, amid the crimsons and golds, fierce violets and crushed blues of every manner of flower, I wasn’t hiding.

  Soon enough, I’d have no reason to hide.

  “We don’t need to go inside.” Nicholas adjusted his suit. The sharp, charcoal grey faded within the flowers, but the amber of his eyes blossomed in brightness. “I won’t have you face him again.”

  Darius Bennett didn’t scare me.

  In fact, he was the reason I attended the party.

  I emptied the Atwood purse for the privilege of attending his family’s social event. It was worth it though, the charity meant well, aiding less fortunate families struggling with their children’s medical bills. The greatest irony of becoming the largest contributor to their charity was that it was my father’s fault the foundation even existed. Without his evils, Helena Bennett would still be alive, and her boys, Max and Reed, would never have endured such terrible injuries from the horrific car crash.

  One crime led to another. One death became many more.

  But the war was ending. Tonight.

  And I’d do it myself, without the help of my step-brothers. This night was for me. For Bumper.

  For a life beyond Bennett control.

  “Are you feeling well?” Nicholas asked.

  “I’m fine.” I lied, hopefully my last one. “I can handle Darius and the board. Besides, there’s Atwood investors here as well.”

  By intent. I invited them to event, to broach a peace between my farm and our newest vendor.

  “Is now the time to be flexing your muscles?” Max asked.

  I smoothed my dress. “I should be making public appearances while I still can.”

  “You won’t need to hide, Sarah,” Nicholas said. “We have nothing to fear.”

  “The fate of your family’s company doesn’t rest in my uterus.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “It isn’t the same, and you know it.”

  We smiled and greeted a passing judge and his wife. A server carried caviar. My stomach turned, but I suddenly craved salt, oranges, and a nap.

  The sooner this was done the better.

  “Everything is going to be okay.” I held their gazes. “I promise.”

  Max frowned. “You don’t need to reassure us, baby.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Max usually only wore dress shirts and vests. Now, he donned a jacket. I knew why. My bodyguard was abruptly fired with no explanation from Nicholas. Max was my security for the night. His weapon rested in his jacket.

  The thought sickened me. This was exactly why it had to be tonight. I wouldn’t tolerate the weapons, the dread. For too long I’d waited, helplessly fearing the day Darius would act on his threats against my step-brothers, Mom, and me.

  One night, and then we’d find peace.

  “I’d like to talk to Reed,” I said. “Before we make our rounds.”

  Nicholas didn’t like the idea. I pretended to study the beautiful displays of flowers and statues instead of him. I didn’t trust myself to adopt a stoicism that wasn’t my own. I imitated him and shielded my step-brothers from my intentions. That didn’t mean Nicholas wouldn’t see through my plan. That he wouldn’t ruin everything in a chivalric excuse to protect me.

  This revenge was mine to take.

  “We’ll find Reed,” Nicholas said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  No. “Of course.”

  “Need anything?”

  “You don’t have an orange, do you?”

  “What?”

  “Just a weird craving. Don’t worry about it.”

  He extended his arm. Business partnerships and marriage united us, but we hid our true relationship from the world. In any other circumstance, it was proper for a gentleman to escort a lady. I took his elbow to ease the flustered, raging beat of my heart.

  Would anyone know the truth? Would they see how I looked at him, how I held myself near him?

  Could they see Bumper?

  I was terrified. I smiled anyway.

  Reed broke from a cluster of attractive blondes. Their assets would tempt some of Southern California’s society, but they weren’t good enough for Reed Bennett. He excused himself, and they giggled, perky and giddy, as he walked away.

  “Thanks for the rescue,” he said.

  “You looked cozy,” I teased.

  “Aw, Sarah. You know you’re my one and only mistake.”

  “How sweet.”

  Reed nodded to Nicholas. “Dad’s here. Pulled up in a limo. Brought Bryant Maddox and Peter Hannigan with him.”

  Max grunted. “Then we won’t be here for long.”

  “We won’t have to be.” Now or never. I held Reed’s gaze, subtly nodding away from the party. “Reed, my attorney is coming.”

  Nicholas hid his scowl. “Delvannis is here?”

  “Anthony is here. I invited him. Since he’s been involved with the new contracts, I thought it’d be proper to have him speak with the board in person. I really need to introduce Reed as the host as well.”

  Reed groaned. “I’m not a fan of attorneys.”

  “Especially Anthony Delvannis,” Nicholas said.

  “You can’t be annoyed by every man who isn’t afraid of your family,” I said.

  “It’s a very short list.”

  “Well, I’m not going to scandalize the Atwoods by having my attorney crash the party. Reed should receive him.”

  “Do I have to?” he asked.

  “Behave yourself.” I pulled him away. “Let’s go. In and out.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  We crossed the atrium, exchanging brief pleasantries with some of the more distinguished guests. A friend of the family intercepted me between planters of weird flowers and weirder blossoms. The pollen scratched my nose. I cleared my throat. It tightened anyway.

  Allergies. Of course. More complications.

  A polite smile excused us. I dug my fingers into Reed’s arm. He flinched.

  “Jesus, Sarah. Are you okay?”

  “Can you see Bumper?” My hand flitted over the dress. “It’s not obvious, is it?”

  “Only when you stand like that. Relax.”

  I’d never relax. Not now. Not until I knew it was safe.

  But the closer that moment came, the more my insides turned to ice and then shattered through everything soft and tender. The hatred coiled inside me. I hoped Bumper was too little to feel any consequence.

  I tugged Reed down an isolated hallway, away from the crowds, the eyes, the ears.

  The witnesses.

  He knew immediately what I wanted. He suffered through my plans before.

  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Reed pointed at me. “What the hell are you doing, Sarah?”

  “I have a plan.”

  “I hate your plans.”

  “I need your help.”

  “I hate when I have to help.” He tried to escape back to the party. I blocked his path. “Why isn’t Nick helping?”

  I answered honestly. “Because he’d try to stop me.”

  “And I won’t?”

  �
�You won’t want to.”

  “I doubt that,” Reed said. “You have five seconds to come clean. This is my party, Sarah. My work. A charity. Don involve it in this.”

  “This will be the only time I’m close enough to Darius.”

  “No.”

  “I have a plan.”

  “No, you have a disaster. You’re upset. I can tell. You’re scared, but believe me, Sarah. Nick’s got this plan, we have contacts, and it’ll be done right and professionally and without any fallout implicating us. And it’ll be soon. I promise. We’ll do this, and then you’ll be safe.”

  “You can’t guarantee that.”

  “Yes, we can,” Reed said. “Trust Nick. He has this under control.”

  “So do I.” I pulled the glass tube from my purse. “Simple. Quick. Easy.”

  Reed didn’t want to see it. He forced past me only to swear and turn.

  “What the fuck is that?”

  I bit my lip. “You might not want to know.”

  “Just tell me.”

  I wished I wasn’t as proud. That Dad wouldn’t have delighted in the dark irony.

  “It’s a concentrated sample of a Bennett Corporation pesticide. An organophosphate.”

  Reed sucked in a breath. “And I can’t tell you to pour that on one of your fields instead?”

  “No.”

  “What do you think you’re going to do?”

  “Toast to the future successes between the Bennetts and Atwoods.”

  I planned to poison Darius with the very same chemicals that built his fortune.

  Poetic.

  Sick.

  Reed rubbed the scar on his cheek. “What happens if he drinks it?”

  “It’ll mimic the effects of a heart attack.”

  “My father doesn’t have a heart, let alone a bad one.”

  I agreed. “He’s sixty years old. He works long hours in a stressful industry. No one will question it.”

  “Nick will.”

  I swallowed. “And he’ll be glad it’s done.”

  “Sarah, I can’t let you do this.”

  I expected that, but it wouldn’t stop me. We were so close. One little sip, and we’d be free.

  “Reed, if you knew what he did to me…what I went through…you’d already be pouring the champagne.”

  Reed took my hand. His voice edged with a serious, dire tone I hardly recognized.

  “Not a fucking second goes by that I don’t think about what happened to you. We all do. I can’t sleep at night. Max can’t even talk to you. And Nick?”

  He stopped. My heart shuddered.

  “What about Nick?”

  “He’s spending millions to save you. He’s planned so much and done some really shady shit, and it’s only going to get worse. He will burn the world to root out Dad, and I doubt murder will ever satisfy him.”

  “Then it’s good I’m doing this.”

  “Blood won’t sate blood,” he warned. “I’ve seen it. For years, Sarah. My family pitted against yours. My mother was murdered seventeen years ago, and you are just now answering for her death.”

  “It ends with Darius.”

  “Not for you.” He glanced down. I didn’t touch my stomach though I longed to protect the little bump with a cross of my hand.

  “The baby isn’t his,” I said.

  “Does it matter? There’s still a baby. There’s still a child who is going to ask how and why and when he came into the world.”

  “None of us have a choice in that.”

  “Well, we have a choice in what we tell him about his conception,” Reed said. “Sarah, if you kill my father, you’ll feel safe. But will you feel better? Will you feel whole? Healed?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that way again.”

  “Then let us help you.” He cupped my cheek. “Nick, Max, and I will handle it. You focus on doing whatever the hell you need to help you heal. One night with us isn’t going to change anything. Hell, every night with us wouldn’t help.” He bumped his forehead against mine. “Though I’d be willing to try.”

  I wished it were that easy. I swallowed.

  “I have to do this myself. This isn’t about healing or the baby. It’s strictly revenge. There is no justice for what Darius did, only vengeance. I won’t let Nick take this from me. Once Darius is gone, I can begin to recover, but it has to start with me.”

  Reed rubbed his eyes. He looked away, casting a glance over the party I inadvertently ruined and the decisions I forced him to make for me, again and again.

  The seconds stretched into a minute of desperate silence. He finally exhaled.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Let me get to the champagne.”

  “Not going to happen. Uncork that thing. Come with me.”

  I seized a shaky breath, stalking after Reed. He turned to me, speaking low and quick.

  “Can you do this fast?”

  “Yes.”

  He flagged a nearby server and ordered with a forced smile. “Open a new bottle of champagne and fill glasses. In the back, I’ve reserved a bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey. Pour an ounce of that on the rocks.”

  The server darted into the staging area. The prickle of fear encased me in goose bumps. I actually wished for the nausea just to purge some of the wickedness from me.

  “You sure about this?” Reed asked.

  I nodded.

  “That makes one of us.”

  The server returned, and Reed took the whiskey, offering me the water. He guided us to approach the cluster of Bennett Board members laughing near a display of multicolored orchids and a mosaic of delicate pebbles arranged into a mural.

  He held out the drink, I poured the vial as he walked.

  And that was it.

  My heart thudded as though I sipped from the pesticide-infused poison myself. Reed nodded to the approaching trouble.

  “Careful.” He said nothing else as Nicholas joined my side. Max hovered behind.

  I didn’t trust his stare.

  “You haven’t found Anthony Delvannis yet,” Nicholas said. He handed me a small glass.

  Orange juice.

  “Nope.” I sipped the drink. It eased the craving. “Couldn’t find him.”

  “He’s talking to my father.”

  Son of a bitch.

  For an attorney, Anthony Delvannis consistently overstepped his bounds, broke his own rules, and demanded a respect from his clients that rivaled on obscene. He twisted confidence into arrogance. He was attractive, but it made him domineering. Intelligent, though he wavered between conceited and cunning. And rich—a man of means who earned whatever he desired.

  Most often, that was a negotiated contract or judgement in his client’s favor.

  Other times, it was a beautiful woman who succumbed to his every delight.

  But I didn’t indulge in idle gossip.

  Especially when I’d become the center of it soon enough.

  I approached the group—Bennetts and board members, Atwood friends, powerful investors. I marched before the wolves and dared the pack to attack. I longed for it.

  Anything would be better than the relentless dread pulsing through my body.

  “Anthony, so great to see you!” I greeted my attorney with all the grace, class, and delicate acknowledgement I learned from the summers I spent split between science camps and finishing schools.

  A tight cluster of men, each more powerful than the last, circled Darius Bennett.

  But they made space for me.

  Darius received me with an eager glance over my dress. He searched for any telltale evidence of his crimes and felt no remorse for reducing me to my most basic parts.

  Once he looked upon me with lust. Now? With his rutting sated, I wasn’t even good enough to fuck. I existed merely to propagate the Bennett line.

  He never respected me. Never feared me. Never thought I’d dare to anything to challenge him.

  My only regret was that he wouldn’t live to see h
ow I tore down his precious empire, brick by brick.

  “My dear.” His words layered with false sincerity, like silk stitched with fiberglass. “I hadn’t expected the privilege of your presence today.”

  “Surprise.”

  Anthony nodded at me. “Sarah, good to see you.”

  He didn’t add the word finally, but I knew it was there, hidden. Anthony dressed in a fine suit, but I never believed the pretention. His dark hair was long, pulled into a sleek ponytail. A little dangerous, a lot of trouble. He might have been handsome if he weren’t constantly criticizing my every decision.

  “Sarah Atwood, I hadn’t expected to see you at a Bennett function.”

  Bryant Maddox toasted me, but his eyes fixed on Nicholas. I debated not answering. Bryant attended Darius like the sycophantic waste of skin. He’d voted to breed me and kill me, and he had yet to answer for his crimes. He leered, but in hatred, not perverted excitement.

  He didn’t know about the baby.

  That was good. None of the Bennett board knew. The secret existed within our twisted family. Darius meant to use the truth against me, like it forged some sick bond between us.

  It’d be over soon.

  I greeted them with charm, bright and wholesome, just as Mom taught would best benefit Dad during his meetings and functions. I played the part of the hostess well, but I adopted my role as head of the Atwood family with greater enthusiasm.

  “I knew this was the perfect opportunity to bring everyone together.” I said. A light waltz strummed from the nearby quartet. I preferred drums of war, but I wasn’t picky about my music. “This might be a first, Atwoods and Bennetts, all working toward a common goal.”

  I raised my glass and greeted the Atwood board members who hesitantly joined our conversation. I hadn’t met with them personally for so long, but a pretty smile and pat to their arm forgave most indiscretions. Sam, Paul, and Devon were family friends and longtime investors, but Dad was careful to ensure they represented less than a quarter of our financial interests. Meeting with them was polite, but not required.

  “I think we have much to discuss,” I said.

  Nicholas and Max edged close, taking the offered champagne from the passing server. Reed presented Darius with the tumbler of whiskey though no words passed between the father and son. Any of his sons.

  Darius no longer thought of them as family. He looked to me to fill that void.