by Lana Grayson
And I watched only the glass in his hand for the moment that our ties would be severed.
Bryant sneered, unsuccessfully hiding his disgust. “Ms. Atwood, we should really discuss things in the proper setting. A board room, perhaps. It’s been so long since you last visited the Bennett Headquarters.”
My skin prickled. Bastard. “Oh, you know how the days slip away. Owning one company, managing another. It’s all quite time consuming. My father taught me to prioritize certain aspects of the business. I’m still learning which are most important.”
“Some would say Mark Atwood prioritized the wrong things,” Bryant said. “The wrong people maybe?”
They wouldn’t rattle me with talk of my father’s arrogance, or how he left his company to his sons. Those wounds scarred over long ago.
“Perhaps. My father had plans for me beyond the farm. But I know exactly where I belong in Atwood Industries now. I can blend what my father wished for me with what he designed for our farm.”
Bryant raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
Not yet.
But soon.
“Just a few projects. Something near and dear to my heart.” I touched Nicholas’s elbow. Beneath the suit, his every muscle tensed. “My step-brother has even offered his support. We have such great plans for both companies.”
Darius hadn’t sipped from his whiskey yet.
“Sounds promising,” Anthony said. He didn’t believe me. “Unlikely, but promising.”
The tumbler dripped condensation over Darius’s hands. His gnarled fingers clenched the glass. His grip was strong enough to break it.
Strong enough to choke off the airflow to a delicate neck.
“These kids have it easy.” Devon, Dad’s longtime golfing partner laughed. “Back in our day it was ruthless. Times change. Profits change.”
I nodded, but I stared only at the whiskey.
I waited for him to take the sip.
Just one taste.
And then it’d be done.
And I could breathe.
And we’d be safe.
Just a drink.
Take a sip.
“I do love hearing of joint Bennett/Atwood projects,” Darius grinned. “Far easier to produce than I thought they’d be.”
I didn’t let Nicholas answer. I held Darius’s foul gaze and accepted the chills that ached every invisible bruise he left.
“And more lucrative than my family ever dreamed,” I said. Drink it. “For years, this endless battle between the companies has caused so many problems. It’s only hurt us.”
Darius agreed. “Some more than others.”
“Bent, but not broken, I assure you.”
Anthony adjusted his suit but remained silent. I recognized his acquiescence—a surrender that I would not have earned had Atwood Industries not paid him generously for his services. In no uncertain terms, Anthony hated my plan to crush the Bennett Empire.
Not because it wouldn’t work.
But because he thought it was exactly the path Dad would have chosen.
“I’m sure Sarah will lead us to success,” Anthony said. “She’s always been the most resourceful Atwood.”
I took it as a compliment. So did Devon.
“It takes time to mend these fences,” Devon said. “Fortunately for the Bennetts, they can buy a lot of timber and nails with the couple million dollars from the new agrochemical deal.”
Nicholas sipped his champagne. “More than a couple million.”
I forced a laugh. “Don’t remind me, Nick. Or my accountants.”
My board chuckled. Darius hadn’t moved. Neither had the drink in his hand.
Drink it.
My stomach flipped. Bumper preferred the most inopportune moments to wake up. I ignored the nausea.
“I am very excited about this new partnership,” I said. “Especially after sitting with the Bennett Board of Directors. They are so loyal to the Bennett name.”
“To a fault.” Nicholas’s voice edged with warning.
“Nonsense,” I said. “They are bound to success. It’s a dedication that would frighten some. That drive creates many opportunities.”
The ice clinked in Darius’s glass. “And my daughter now understands the Bennetts seize every available opportunity.”
I flushed under the stares of those listening. “And when it’s not available?”
“Then we make our own opportunities.”
I shuddered. “Such a pity that ambition was so often at odds with my family.”
“No, my dear, we weren’t at odds,” he said. “You were never a challenge.”
“And there’s not one now.” I lied to them all. “Only partnerships.”
Darius chuckled. “This new generation is certainly more agreeable than the old.”
“Only because we know what we want.”
“And what’s that?”
I answered with every honesty. “Family and power. Same as the Bennetts.”
My board members nodded. Anthony raised his champagne and an eyebrow. “I’ll drink to that.”
So would Darius.
My mouth dried, but I didn’t let my hand tremble. Nicholas squeezed my elbow, as though he read through my cracking, flaking façade.
“To the beginning of a new partnership,” I said.
Darius grinned. “A new union between families.”
The toast clinked. I drew my trembling glass to my lips, staring as the liquid swirled in Darius’s glass.
One drink.
The others sipped.
Darius’s arm moved slowly, draggingly.
Up. Up. Up.
To his lips.
On his lips.
The glass cracked under my grip.
Just drink it.
My orange juice would choke me. I’d drown, bloat, suffer through the tiniest of sips in a closing throat with my aching chest. So close to being free. So close to protecting Bumper.
So close to ending it.
Drink it, you son of a bitch.
Darius opened his gullet and guzzled a swig of the alcohol. A large, gluttonous gulp that splashed down his throat.
I hoped it burned.
Just a prelude to the flames that would conquer him so soon.
He pulled the tumbler from his lips, staring at the drink. Then his eyes beaded and narrowed and focused on me.
If he had a weapon, he would have fired it. If he had a belt, he would have beaten me.
If we were alone, he would have done far, far worse.
But he had nothing. He could only count the slipping grains of sand through the cracked hourglass of his life.
His glass raised again, smiling over the circle of allies and enemies.
“Another toast.” His words threaded with vile intent. “One of congratulations and well-wishes for my darling daughter, Sarah.”
Nicholas gripped my arm. The bastard twisted a knife without pulling it from the sheath. He called for another round of champagne with false excitement. The others raised their glasses once more.
“Here’s to a life of joy and good health.”
Anthony, Bryant, and my board waited in polite confusion. Darius smiled at me.
Only me.
“My dear, I can’t wait to meet my grandson.”
17
Nicholas
My father revealed the pregnancy.
I should have known.
I should have expected it.
Just as I should have realized nothing Sarah Atwood did was premeditated beyond a moment of pure, emotional rage.
Reckless, foolish, dangerous girl.
What had she done?
“Grandson?” Anthony Delvannis looked upon my family with contempt on our best days. My father presented the attorney with everything he needed to piece the crime together, take Sarah from me, and destroy us. “Sarah? Are you…?”
She hadn’t sipped her juice. The glass cracked in her hand, and a single bead of blood trickled over her thum
b. She stared at my father as if she couldn’t believe he’d use the child against her.
She was smarter than that.
And she was fortunate he labeled the baby as his grandson.
“I…” A paleness drained the color from her cheeks. “I had meant to keep that particular announcement private.”
“Forgive my excitement.” My father spoke to the crowd of stunned board members and associates. “I haven’t been this pleased since my sons were born.”
Bryant laughed, a perverted glee. He gulped his champagne and ordered more.
“Ms. Atwood, you’re pregnant!” It wasn’t a question. He declared war. “How…when did this all happen?”
Max tensed, but Bryant was my responsibility. His fate sealed when he assisted with my attempted murder.
But I couldn’t answer for Sarah.
We hadn’t discussed what problems the revelation would cause or how we would present it to the world. The child was mine. Sarah was mine. But everything about an Atwood heir and a Bennett son was difficult enough without the additional complication of our family ties. We were step-siblings, and the scandal would shame Sarah.
Just as it’d shame Bumper.
Sarah refused to surrender to my father, but nothing good came when she dug in her heels.
“I am expecting,” she said, channeling elegance and a fierce pride. “And I’m as excited as my step-father.”
The Atwood board members stared in horror as the woman who assumed ownership of the company now lost everything to an unborn child.
A child that would own them all.
And it was mine.
A Bennett.
A life that would ruin others, depose empires, and steal fortunes.
Once, I wanted that power.
Now?
I just wanted a healthy child, Sarah to be safe and loved, and our enemies dead, buried, and unable to harm the life we created.
“Sarah.” Anthony’s expression twisted. He reached for her, not caring as she hesitantly protested. “Come with me. Excuse us.”
She untangled her hand from Anthony’s only to take his arm instead. I followed, though Anthony turned after half a dozen steps. He sneered.
“Don’t even try it, Bennett.”
Sarah forced a plastic smile as he guided her through the crowds. “Anthony, really. You’re going to make a scene.”
“I prefer it that way.”
Max and Reed excused themselves from the spreading gossip that hushed the entirety of the conservatory. Reed had invited every important family from the West Coast to attend. Sarah would be humiliated.
Or enraged.
I followed them through an access hallway. Anthony lunged for my throat.
He dared to lay a hand on me. Two, actually. His fists curled within my suit, and he jammed me against the wall. Sarah groaned.
We stood eye-to-eye, neither blinking. I wasn’t threatened by him, even if he thought himself powerful. His family was moneyed, but he was nothing compared to the Bennett wealth. I didn’t care for his attitude or the rumors of his particular lifestyle, no matter how much they currently mirrored my own tastes.
No one touched me. And no one would chastise Sarah Atwood and drag her through a party like an errant child. She deserved more respect than any of us had ever given her.
“Release me,” I said.
“What the fuck did you do to her?”
Sarah hissed. “Anthony, let him go.”
“What did you do to her?”
“I’d advise you to listen to the lady,” I said.
Anthony scowled. His grip tightened. I didn’t trust the blind hatred seething from this man. He understood his strength, knew exactly the pain his hands could cause.
That made his restraint all the more dangerous.
“Sarah, did he hurt you?” he asked.
“You don’t understand.” Sarah tried to edge close. “Let him go.”
“Did. He. Hurt. You.”
She tugged on his arm. “No, he didn’t. Anthony, please.”
Her breathing rasped, and it ached in my chest. I kept her inhaler in my pocket. She needed it.
She needed me.
And if her attorney didn’t remove his hands by her next wheeze, I wouldn’t be responsible for my behavior.
“Who is the father?”
Sarah protested. Anthony demanded it again. I loathed the question. She never should have had to hesitate, to blink in memory, to fear such things.
“I am,” I said.
“Oh, wrong answer.” Anthony slammed me against the wall. My patience wore thin, kept in check only as a favor to the woman begging for a moment of sanity. “I knew something was wrong. I just never thought you bastards would be sick enough to do this to an innocent girl.”
Sarah’s voice turned sharp. “Anthony, for Christ’s sake. Let him go. It’s not what you think!”
“It’s exactly what I think. I’m getting you out of here.”
“I love him!”
His grip loosened. I shouldn’t have taken such pride in her words. Especially when I had done so little to earn such a priceless and beautiful gift.
Anthony didn’t look at her. “You’re in love with a Bennett?”
“It’s a long story, Anthony. Not here. Please.”
“We have the time.”
I met his gaze. “You should respect the lady’s wishes.”
“You’re one to talk.”
He meant to start a war in the middle of a maintenance hallway while my family’s charity fundraiser hummed with excitement over the newfound scandal.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to raise a hand. My reinforcements were eager to help.
Max took a less subtle approach, gripping Anthony’s shoulder and spinning him from me. Anthony prepared for the strike. Reed jumped between them.
“Hey, there.” He shook Anthony’s hand. “Reed Bennett. Heard a lot about you. Figured we should at least meet before my brothers kick your ass.”
“Stop…it…” Sarah leaned against the wall, her words gasped. She searched through her purse but dropped the bag in her haste. I offered her the inhaler. She gratefully accepted it. I hated how she refused to puff with us watching. “All...of you…”
Anthony retreated only a step, a cautious positioning that separated Sarah from me. Like he believed he could keep my brothers and me from her side if she called for us.
“You aren’t in love with this man,” Anthony said. “He and his father would do anything to take your company. How can you trust him?”
His glare was meant to shame me, but only Sarah had that power.
“He’s not like his father.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Darius Bennett is evil, Nicholas is not.”
I wasn’t so sure.
Anthony grunted. “You’re pregnant with his child. And I’d bet my last dollar it’s by intent. Darius Bennett has everything he’s ever wanted now.”
“No. He doesn’t.” The shade in her voice prickled the hair on my neck. “He’s not a problem anymore. I made sure of it.”
Not the relief I expected. Or the trembling. Her hold weakened on the wall.
It wasn’t the asthma that crippled her.
“What did you do, Sarah?” The warning crashes of my heart revealed everything I dreaded. “Sarah. Tell me you didn’t do something foolish.”
“It’s done,” she said.
“What’s done?”
She closed her eyes. “He is.”
“Oh, shit.” Max slammed a hand against the wall. She flinched. “Baby, don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid.”
No. She wasn’t stupid. She was frightened.
She was reckless.
She was an Atwood.
Sarah not only leapt before looking, she kept running once she hit the ground—no matter the danger.
She flushed. “It’s better if you guys don’t know.”
Damn it. I turned. Reed avoided my gaze.
O
f course she told Reed. Who else would be foolish enough to help her do something so idiotic? I preferred when my brother let himself get shackled to a bed. At least there he did less damage.
“What did she do?” I struggled to keep my voice even and not ragged with profanity. I stared at my brother. “Tell me.”
Reed held his hands up in surrender and pointed at her. Traitor. He was more brother to her than he was to me.
“I had to, Nick,” Sarah said. “This was our best chance.”
“Sarah, what the hell happened?” Anthony asked.
“I poisoned Darius’s drink with Bennett Corporation pesticide.”
I wondered if an aneurism would feel better than a bullet to the brain. If I was lucky, they’d strike at the same time. Max swore. Reed stayed silent.
And Anthony shared my panic.
“Are you out of your mind?” he snapped. “Christ, I’m not a defense attorney. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Believe me when I say things have happened that I can’t share, that I never want to speak of again,” she whispered. “And believe me when I say this will right those wrongs.”
A chill crept into my words. “No, it won’t.”
She hadn’t asked me.
Hadn’t confided in me.
Hadn’t fucking trusted me enough to tell me her plan.
She knew I would have stopped her. I would have drunk the poison myself it meant sparing her from the complications of this insanity.
“Sarah, you have no idea what you’ve done,” I said.
“He’ll be dead by morning.”
“And so will you! He won’t die without a fight—”
“It’s done. He won’t have a chance to retaliate. He knew it. That’s why he told everyone in there about the baby. That was the only way he could hurt me.” She covered her stomach as she spoke. “He’s gone. It’s over.”
It wasn’t. Not even close.
Goddamn it. I had two weeks until we moved on our own assassination. Two weeks, and Sarah would have been freed and my father dead and buried with no complications, no investigations.
This ruined everything.
It only endangered her.
“If his death is suspicious, his will stipulates an autopsy is required,” I said. “They’ll find the chemicals in his system, and the police will trace it to you.” I pointed at Max. “Find Dad. Get him to the estate and do whatever the hell you can to purge the pesticides.”
