by Lana Grayson
Reed swore. “Why? You want to save him?”
“I’m not going to jail for this.”
“You won’t,” Sarah said. “They won’t find out.”
“What if they do?” I pulled her close. “Sarah, I’m not losing you. Not now. If he dies and the police come after someone, I have to tell them it was me.”
She trembled hard enough to shake. I wrapped her in my arms, but my embrace would do nothing if my father died and we were found.
Or worse—if he lived and wanted revenge.
“I know you want this done, but you can’t do it alone,” I said. “You have enough to worry about with the baby. Just trust in me.”
“I can’t wait anymore.”
“You have to,” I whispered. “Sarah, if you do it this way, he’ll be gone, but we’ll be separated. That’s not how I plan for this to end. It will be me and you and Bumper, and I swear to God, nothing is going to come between us.”
I kissed her forehead, but her trembling didn’t slow. It wasn’t fear, but a simmering anger. A slow burn of hatred and disgust and helplessness trapped her in a destructive nightmare. It’d claim us all if she couldn’t control it.
I felt it happen before.
I experienced it myself.
The Bennetts and Atwoods fostered a cycle of revenge that would forever damn us if someone didn’t stop it. If someone didn’t end the heartache.
Committing murder wouldn’t heal her, but providing a safe life, warm home, and comfort for our baby would. A lifetime without retaliation or bloodshed.
I had to make her understand she needed more than vengeance. She wouldn’t be whole until she found that reason to live.
Just as I had when I found her.
“What will stop that poison?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Sarah, please tell me. We will end it, but when it’s safe. When I can protect you and the baby and get the justice you deserve.”
Her murmur heaved with a sob. “Activated charcoal.”
I pointed to Max. “Find Dad and shove the damn rocks down his throat. Do whatever it takes.”
“What the hell do I say to him?” Max asked.
“Tell him it isn’t time for him to die yet.”
Max resisted, but he knew better than to let a pregnant woman rot in jail for her revenge. He rushed to grab our father before Sarah’s poison ended him. Reed said nothing, hands on his head. Anthony hadn’t moved. He stared at Sarah as though he didn’t recognize her.
Neither did I. For as much as I longed to escape the reign of my father, Sarah struggled just the same. Mark Atwood haunted her in everything she did, thought, and decided. One vile possession after another—either mine, my father’s, or Mark’s.
I had to free her before that hatred stole the woman I loved. Before she truly believed only blood would protect her.
“Sarah, we have to make our move now,” I said. “First, we’ll take the board. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Are we ready for it?”
But we didn’t have a choice.
This was the beginning of her war.
This was how I either won Sarah for my own or lost her entirely.
I wasn’t prepared for the takeover, but she was. She had always been. Since the day we stole her, since the day we damned ourselves in greed and sin, this was how it was meant to end.
The only way to defeat my father was to first destroy the empire he created.
And I let Sarah Atwood topple the first stone.
18
Sarah
I imagined revenge as bloody, satisfying, and necessary.
I never thought I’d be terrified to seize it. Empty when I took it. Utterly cold when it was delivered.
When Dad spoke of revenge and restoring our pride, he made it seem as though bloodshed and humiliation eased every pain. But that wasn’t meant to satisfy a grudge at all.
I stared at the door to the Bennett Corporation board room, resting a hand over my tummy’s swell—more noticeable in the two weeks since Darius survived my attempt to kill him.
This revenge wasn’t to protect my honor. It was to prevent further suffering.
And if it didn’t work? If everything I sacrificed, everything I voluntarily shamed, everything I spent was ruined? Then the only way to protect myself and Bumper would be through blood.
And most of it would be ours.
Especially since Nicholas revealed his plan to kill Darius was lost, too dangerous to pursue after the poisoning. Darius now expected it. His will was updated and more security added to a private detail. Too much attention focused on him now to attempt a murder.
Our plan shifted to the board instead.
I took a preliminary puff of my inhaler to prevent the anxious tingling in my chest from developing into the consuming tightness. The Bennett Board of Directors expected weakness. They thrived on it, delighted in exploiting it. Sixteen weeks of pregnancy rendered me weak in their eyes.
They didn’t know the strength Bumper gave me. Even I hardly understood it.
Nicholas, Max, and Reed waited for my signal.
Now or never.
I nodded. The doors opened.
And I prepared for a war.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” I surveyed the greying men, leering at me from the circular table. I claimed my seat. My step-brothers hovered behind me. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
Confidence. Charisma. Charm.
I had none of it.
That didn’t stop me from presenting my best smile. I worked through the nausea and faced the men who once vowed to kill me to prevent my inheritance of the Josmik Trust. They failed.
They should have killed me then. Nothing would save them now.
But the prickling thorns of fear imbedded within me. My stomach clenched.
He was here.
I hadn’t expected Darius Bennett to crawl from his bed and limp his way into the board room. Then again, I hadn’t anticipated he’d survive the poisoning. I meticulously plotted the dosage and contents, measured and re-measured the materials. The charcoal worked, but it must have been a miserable night for him.
It’d take something blacker than poison to kill the monster. His blood thickened with hate and his heart pumped pure pestilence. It wasn’t a miracle he lived. It was sin.
He sneered in ragged silence—forsaking any insincere greeting to watch as I squirmed or fought his advances.
That pretense was over. Ruined. Burned away in the acid I used to scald his rancid organs.
“My dear.” His voice rasped, cracked from the poison. “Be a good girl and make this quick. You should be resting, growing my son.”
Bryant Maddox didn’t react to the confession though the other board members. Stanley, the eldest, had once presumed my captivity to be tasteless. He felt the same for my rape. But these men had so long cornered themselves within Darius’s depravity that rape no longer shocked them.
But a pregnancy tempted their greed.
“This meeting will be quick,” I said. “And after today, I don’t plan to see any of you ever again.”
Bryant snorted, all formality and patience stripped from his voice. “The little bitch is finally selling her stock?”
“Easy,” Max warned. “Let’s keep it professional.”
Nicholas said nothing, though Reed had stepped forward, so close to me his arm brushed mine. It reassured me, but I hardly needed his support. Not when I knew I had the men beaten with a simple purchase order and invoice.
“The little whore stole our stock,” Bryant said. “I ought to string her up and beat the money out of her.”
“You won’t touch me,” I said. “None of you will.”
“I don’t care about the bastard in your gut.” Bryant’s face flushed red, enraged. “One good punch to the stomach—”
The Bennetts surged forward.
Including Darius.
I raised a hand. “You won’t hurt me. You won’t
hurt my child. You will sit there and listen to my proposition because, quite frankly, Mr. Maddox, you have no other choice.”
“I could bleed you out right here.”
Max smirked. “Try. See how far it gets you.”
“Don’t tell me you answer to your whore now too, Max?” Bryant sneered. “Never did have a backbone of your own. You lose that in the car crash too?”
I heard enough of Max’s reputation to realize when a dead man walked in his presence. Nicholas steadied his brother, preventing him from beginning my takeover with a splash of blood heralding a massacre.
We didn’t need to tip-toe through that minefield.
Not yet.
Not if everyone behaved.
And that included Darius Bennett, snaking a smile as he witnessed the first of his sons crack.
“Shall we call the meeting to order?” I asked.
Five of Darius’s most loyal puppets met my gaze with the same cold, dire warning which prickled my insides. Stanley, the eldest, coughed a hacking, phlegm-crusted gasp into his handkerchief. Peter Hannigan edged as far from the table as his morals permitted, still tarnished from his betrayal of Nicholas and sullied by his vote to end my life. Clyde and Jacob remained silent, waiting for the nod of their master before they spoke. Neither Darius nor Bryant interrupted.
The floor was mine.
Darius gestured with an ungracious hand. “What is it you want?”
“Complete control of the Bennett Corporation.”
His laugh was cold. “We’ve traveled this same tired road before, child. You do not have the shares to assume control. You failed in your attempt for a controlling interest, and now you are merely an inconvenience.” His lips twisted into a sneer. “More importantly, an incubator.”
I ignored the insult as it wasn’t offensive. I kept my child safe, and he kept me protected as well. Despite what Darius Bennett planned by breeding me, his arrogance failed him. I was pregnant, but the unborn Bennett was more dangerous to them than me.
“Months ago, I met you all in this very room. I had been kidnapped from the arms of the man I love. I was beaten and violated by my own step-father.” I paused, searching the expressions of the heartless men before me. “You did nothing to aid me. Nothing to prevent my suffering. And nothing to free me from a nightmare you are responsible for creating.”
“Do you plan on shaming us?” Bryant asked. “Believe me, Ms. Atwood, we already regret our decision to spare your life.”
“I’m willing to pardon those past insults.”
“You’re an Atwood. You pardon nothing. Your family exists merely to torment those they feel have slighted them.”
“It’s true,” I said. “I should have you all bound and beaten, raped and murdered, just as you voted for me.”
I paused, the revealing catch in my breathing only noticeable by Nicholas. He didn’t reach for me, but he shifted, a movement breaking his methodical stillness to remind me that he supported this. That he believed in this.
Then again, he had no other option. If I failed, he’d lose everything too. The inheritance. The company. His life.
I swallowed the bitter fear. “I will offer you gentleman a choice. Take it and survive. Challenge it and…” I glanced at Max. “Well…we’re not willing to negotiate.”
Bryant shrugged. “There is nothing you can do to us. What is it you want?”
“You all will sell your shares of the Bennett Corporation to Nicholas, Max, and Reed.”
Darius answered for the board. “No.”
“This is my first and only offer.”
He grinned. “It’s refused.”
“You haven’t heard my conditions.”
“Nothing you say will convince me to resign from my post and award my traitorous, ungrateful sons with the empire I built.” His very presence fouled the conversation. I swore I felt his breath on my neck once more. “They receive my shares only when I die, and you were too weak to finish it.”
Not weak. Just confused.
I forgot my reasons for vengeance, how I planned to ruin Darius Bennett and inflict the most suffering.
I took his family first, and now with Darius alone and abandoned, I aimed my next slice. That sword would puncture through the heart of his empire.
“Almost two months ago, I emailed my attorney, directing Atwood Industries to create a partnership with the Bennett Corporation. We joined in a comprehensive contract. Our company would become the sole provider for every agrochemical product servicing my fields. You accepted this bid. And, by now, every single field, every crop, every trembling leaf I own has been exposed to your chemicals.”
The board cast uncertain glances to Darius, but he could no longer help them. They were already ruined.
“We joined with great publicity,” I said. “I released a press packet, and my announcement video reached other farms, clients, every vendor associated with our companies.” I arched an eyebrow. “After all, this was a monumental partnership. The world watched as my farm stuffed millions into your pockets, and so many new customers joined with me because of the weight the Atwood name carries in the agricultural industry. I lead by example.”
Silence.
I grinned.
“So, imagine what would happen if I have one bad harvest.”
Their rapt attention was better than any spray of blood or cry of pain.
The board stared, tensed and horrified.
Helpless.
I continued, pretending the thoughts hadn’t already crossed my mind. Weren’t already in play.
“Imagine how tragic it would be if a mistake were made, or if a defective product treated my fields?” I let the question linger. “An entire harvest could be lost. The soil contaminated. My crops ruined.”
The words terrified me, even in a hypothetical context, but I was prepared to see it become a reality. If it destroyed me, I would force the Bennett Corporation through the same hellfire.
“I would lose millions of dollars. Billions in potential sales and future revenue. One bad mixture. One misplaced chemical from your own workers—who we contracted specifically to handle the treatment of my farms—would be…horrible for us all.” I hesitated. “Though I’d imagine it’d be more devastating to the reputation of the Bennett Corporation.”
“And how would something like that happen?” Bryant gritted his teeth. “We could deny it. Accuse you of tampering with the product. Corporate sabotage.”
“Me?” I widened my eyes. “The innocent Sarah Atwood? Lost and desperate to maintain a family farm that she was never intended to run?”
“Everyone would see through it,” he warned.
“No. Not when I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family—both the Atwoods and Bennetts. Oh, and of course…” I rubbed my tummy. “My little baby. I wouldn’t know the first thing about corporate sabotage. My father taught me nothing about business. I was always supposed to be…what was it?” I tilted my head. “An incubator?”
Bryant silenced. They all did. I liked the board better when they choked on their own fear.
“This is my offer. Resign, sell your stocks to my step-brothers, make a profit. Do this, and we won’t need to consider how one little whisper about the quality of your product would impact your bottom line.” I paused. “So many of my associates’ farms are eager to view my new yields.”
I waited. The board stilled, considering an offer that was more knife to the throat than business proposition.
Darius spoke first, amused. “My dear, you don’t have the power to destroy this company. Especially with only a few gossiped, unsubstantiated rumors. You’ll lose everything in the libel suit.”
Nicholas’s confident caramel hum purged his father’s amusement. “Not necessarily. Atwood farms represent a new path for the Bennett Corporation. You remember that Ms. Atwood specializes in developing genetically modified crops. Some of her discoveries worked with the natural herbicide and pesticide traits present in certain plant genomes.”
>
Nicholas placed a hand on my shoulder. The heat surged through me.
“In fact.” He didn’t break his father’s stare. “You were very eager to purchase her research. You saw the potential long before any other, including Mark Atwood.”
I nodded. “I own the patents for certain genes, modifications to the plant genomes which, with additional research and trials, will allow us to grow crops capable of surviving and thriving without chemical treatment. I can create new seeds, drought-resistant plants, natural pest-resistant crops.” And now they saw the power I wielded. I grinned. “My work eliminates the need for all those nasty, toxic chemicals which can so easily render us…ill.”
Darius didn’t react, but the pallor cast over his cheeks hinted at the poison which still ravaged his system.
“I foresee two scenarios,” I said. “If you refuse my offer, I will ensure the complete and total destruction of my entire fall harvest. Not a single root will be viable once I’m finished, and I would swear to the world your product’s chemical reactions diseased my fields.”
I paused only to prepare myself for that horrible possibility.
“Should this happen, in my sorrow and desperation, I’ll have only one choice to protect my family and farm from future harm—the creation of a new company, specializing in genetically modified, herbicide, pesticide, and fertilizer free crops. And believe me, presented with the choice? Why would anyone risk their farms, their health, or the health of their baby if there were an alternative to those chemicals?”
Stanley sighed, planting a wrinkled hand against the table. “I’ve heard enough. What do you want from us, Ms. Atwood?”
“Resign, take your payouts, and leave this room wealthier than you entered. Do this, and my research will remain within the Bennett Corporation, financed through their R&D division. All future profits, discoveries, and patents will be secured by the company that would lose the most if it were developed beyond its walls.” I shrugged. “Or you can stay, and I’ll burn the company to the ground and let you sift through the ashes for your pride.”
Darius questioned me. “My dear, you wouldn’t dare jeopardize your family’s precious farm. This is your livelihood, your father and brothers’ legacy. You won’t bargain with it.”
