Текст книги "Capital Risk"

Автор книги: Lana Grayson

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

The chills burst over my body. Nothing eased those shivers cast by the frighteningly sane way he spoke of his crimes—those he already committed and the horrors he yet planned.

“I’ve won, Sarah.”

My breath choked in rage and fear. Darius’s stare pinned to the table, raw and exposed once more.

“You have until the day I rip my son from your body. Through him, I will own every part of you, every acre of tilled land, every crop your family ever planted, and every cent they ever earned.” He paused. “And you will have only a bloody, violent death without your little Bumper.”

“Get the hell out of my boardroom,” I whispered.

Darius’s lecherous grin chilled me to the core, shattering my victory with a new fear.

“Keep my son warm. I’ll be back for him soon.”

It was a beautiful day for bloodshed.

The sun warned the vibrant greens of the golf course, and a cool salt-licked breeze tickled over the players. Perfect weather for a round on the back nine though I enjoyed neither murder nor golf.

But, in my chosen profession, my inherited status as future CEO of the Bennett Corporation, sometimes sacrifices were made and Thursday afternoons reserved for both a nine iron a new round of negotiations. Fortunately, this meeting would be quick, arranged with the one Bennett Board member who did not agree with my company’s restructuring. It was my responsibility to change the hearts and minds of the one who resisted the inevitable. Oddly enough, it was not my father who chose to be difficult.

Bryant Maddox was a miserable son of a bitch who suffered from greed and inflicted that particular corruption upon others. The difference between men who had everything and those who scavenged on our scraps were not the zeros in the bank accounts but visions for the future.

I would make a future with Sarah Atwood and our child. Our family names and fortunes would provide all the safety and comfort the ones I loved deserved.

But men like Bryant believed they could antagonize and harm to achieve their ends. And, in some ways, they were successful, especially when they targeted those weaker than Sarah. Bryant hadn’t realized her resilience. He didn’t anticipate retaliation for his crimes.

My brothers and I were more than eager to deliver it.

Max, Reed, and I joined Bryant midway through his game, parking the golf cart on the more isolated of scenic holes. This particular beauty overlooked the beachfront. Cliff-face, really. A lovely location overlooking a rough surf and dangerously jagged rocks.

Bryant swore as we approached. He tossed his club to the ground.

“Aw, Christ.” His eyes narrowed. “Come to intimidate me?”

Intimidate? No. I adjusted my suit coat. Despite Reed’s polo or Max’s t-shirt, even a day on the course required a professional demeanor. This wasn’t a cordial visit. This was the darker side of business. The few moments in my career which would require a more delicate, less public touch to address certain sensitive matters.

And Sarah was my most sensitive of matters.

“Great day for golf.” Max pulled a driver from the bag although we spoke on the green. Bryant noticed, but he chose not to correct my brother on his game. “Thinking of joining you.”

“I’m not interested.” Bryant pointed his putter at me. “I’m not interested in anything you say or in any games you’re playing.”

“Aw come on,” Reed grinned. “Foursomes are a lot of fun.”

Bryant aged since our last board meeting—the grey in his hair more noticeable, the lines creasing his face deeper, more severe. The resignation of his fellow board members weighed heavily on him. If I hadn’t known, I would have assumed Sarah slipped a little pesticide into his drink as well.

Stress wasn’t kind to a man like Bryant Maddox, one who never endured strife or complications, intimidation or confrontation. Until now.

“You haven’t returned my calls,” I said. “This might have been resolved over the phone. Instead, you’ve delayed it for three weeks.”

“I’m not selling you my shares, Nicky.”

“You will.”

“I don’t know what you or that whore is planning, but I’d advise you take your brothers, turn around, and leave. Check to make sure the little slut is still knocked up. God forbid something happens to that bastard kid and she gets her neck broken.”

“See, Nick?” Max huffed. “This is why I never dealt with the business side of the corporation. I can’t handle people being so fucking ignorant.”

His club swung, clipping Bryant behind the knees. He crumbled with a cry, but Max ignored the profanity. I did not.

I rather enjoyed his pain.

Reed slammed his club between Bryant’s shoulder blades to ensure he stayed facedown.

“I agree,” Reed said. “We can negotiate. We can compromise. It’s all useless, especially when assholes like this would rather pitch insults than think about what’s best for the company.”

“Sarah Atwood is not what’s best for the Bennett Corporation.” Bryant’s words mumbled into the grass. “She’s only alive because she’s knocked up with a kid worth billions.”

“Careful, Bryant,” I said. “I came to reasonably discuss matters, and twice now you’ve insulted the mother of my child.”

“Bullshit, Nick. That’s not your kid and you fucking know it.”

Max offered. I nodded. His driver wacked Bryant’s back, aiming for his kidney. His pained scream ended in a sharp wheeze.

“The child is mine.” I let my voice edge with a growl. “And anyone who says otherwise will wish they hadn’t indulged in such dark rumors.”

“Your father raped and impregnated that girl. If you want to raise your fucking half-brother like a pathetic cuckold—”

Reed’s club slipped, aimed for the opposite kidney. Bryant’s sickening words silenced.

I’d do worse.

Much worse.

I pulled my own club, testing the weight against an imaginary distance somewhere beyond the green and the cracking of Bryant’s skull. It felt good.

I tossed my jacket into the cart. No sense wasting a shot. I didn’t believe in mulligans, not when a gentleman, a businessman, and a Bennett accepted their failures and rebuilt their successes without excuses or blame.

“I was never fond of this sport.” I fit a glove onto my hand. “My father insisted we all learn how to play. We were given private instruction and encouraged to join teams in our secondary school and universities.”

“Lot of good it did,” Reed said. “All I learned was how to shank a ball hard to the left.”

Max snorted. “I learned it was a bitch of a sport for those with bad ankles, knees, hips…everything.”

“And I learned it was the best location for business to be discussed in a reasonable, friendly atmosphere.” I dropped the ball an inch from Bryant’s nose. “I always had a great drive.”

Bryant’s once enraged grumble shifted to a timid whimper. He struggled to rise. Reed pushed his club once more into his back, rendering him still.

“Now this course, I’ve never played,” I said. “Haven’t had time, what with trying to ensure Sarah Atwood carries my—what was it? Half-brother?—to term. But I’m sure I can master this particular course just as easily as the others.”

I didn’t aim for the green or the hole. I readied for a shot overlooking the beautiful cliff drop to the ocean below.

“These courses have a few more hazards than sand pits and the occasional pond,” I said. “Notice how the wind swirls here? That must be a hundred foot drop to the ocean over there.”

Max shook his head. “Hundred and fifty at least.”

“And the waters around here are straight-up turbulent,” Reed hummed. “Those waves break too fast. Can’t swim. Can’t surf. Really a wasted bit of coastline.”

“This location is made more difficult because the only thing preventing a bad shot from edging over the cliff…?” I stilled as I aimed for the drive. “A little wooden fence, rotted from the salt spray.”

Bryant’s pathetic murmurs rose into a frantic cry as I shifted my weight into the stance and swung the club across my hips, crushing the ball and whiffing the air only a few centimeters from his nose.

The ball sailed out over the cliff and disappeared into the mists over the water.

“Nice one,” Reed said.

Max drew Bryant to his knees. Tears wet his cheeks, but the slobbering mess of a man before me would never earn my pity. If he reserved none for Sarah why would I afford him the privilege of my mercy?

“Bryant, I really have no time for this game,” I said. “We came to discuss the Bennett Corporation. You understand the importance of my promotion. I require a complete change of ownership to alter the current course of my company. I am, once more, asking you to consider your resignation and the sale of your shares.”

“And if I say no?”

“I’ll think you’ll find that assisting my father’s attempt to murder me damns you enough.”

“I didn’t—”

“You were there during the gunfire. You chose the location, the table, the time. But this isn’t about an insult to me. This is my attempt to take control of what’s rightfully mine. I am offering you a chance to sell now. Will you accept?”

“You aren’t your father.” Bryant’s eyes widened. “You won’t hurt me.”

“That is why I offered the sale and not a bullet.”

He eyed the clubs in our hands and swore. “What the hell do you want? I’ll do whatever you like.”

It was the smartest thing I ever remembered the man saying. I retrieved the contract of sale from my pocket, simple and direct and pre-filled with Bryant’s specific information and holdings.

“A signature, please.”

“Fine. Fine!” He waved for the contract and pen. “You win. Take the goddamned company. Just fucking let me go.”

I passed him the papers. He initialed where I indicated and passed the contract back to me. His profanity was unnecessary.

“Congratulations, Nick. You and the Atwood whore own the company. I did what you wanted. Now let me go. Give me this second chance, and I won’t come near you or the girl.”

Or the child.

I didn’t damn my soul in doing this. I sacrificed for my baby.

I folded the contract and handed the paperwork to Reed.

“Thank you, Bryant, for your lifelong support of my company and our business. Your dedication to the Bennett Corporation is both admirable and frightening.” I took a deep breath. “But I’ve learned something from this experience. A second chance is only another opportunity to repeat the same mistakes and cause the same pain. No one deserves second chances, least of all me.”

“Nick, what the hell are you doing?” Bryant twisted as my brothers drew him to his feet. “You got what you wanted. You have the company. You have the girl. You even made the fucking heir. What else do you want?”

“This isn’t for me.” My grip tightened over the club. “What happens now will be for her, to prove the second chance she gave me wasn’t in vain.”

“You won’t kill me for an Atwood! Nick, Nicholas.” Bryant struggled as my brothers led him to the edge of the cliff. “Stop this. You wanted the company on your terms. You got it. You aren’t cruel like this.” His blubbering turned hysterical. “Nick, you aren’t a man like your father.”

“Yes, I am.” Admitting it was another opportunity to save myself. “But I’ll make this sacrifice to appear to be a better man…at least in her eyes.”

My signature blotted across the page.

With a single swipe of the pen, the Bennett Corporation now owned every patent, every note, every bit of research I ever conducted on my genetically modified crops.

Dad would have been inconsolably enraged. But even at his worst, he wasn’t like Darius Bennett. He never raised a hand to me. Nicholas, Max, and Reed bore the scars of their father, some more apparent than others. In that regard, I was the lucky one.

I traced the thin, white mark over Nicholas’s bicep. I didn’t realize he was awake. He shifted only to gather me to his chest, hold me close, and distract me from the injuries that dotted his skin.

“If this happens…” He whispered more to himself than to me. “If you get pregnant—”

“I won’t.”

“If it happens, and you have my son…”

Not an heir. Not a child. His son. His voice caressed me in protective secret.

“I won’t treat him how my father treated me. I promise you. I would be kind.”

“Would you love him?”

He held me tighter. “With every beat of my heart.”

Greater mistakes than mine had been made before.

At least, I thought so.

But this wouldn’t be a mistake. I felt it. I knew it. The new Bennett Corporation wasn’t the same evil empire that challenged my father and ruined lives. Nicholas assumed control, as he had been bred to do, as he was raised to do.

And Darius’s resignation was coming at the end of the month.

For the moment, for the peaceful days that lured us into a strange and foreign equilibrium between anxiety and relief, everything threatened to turn out…okay.

That was more unsettling than any kidnapping, any captivity, any abuse.

I emerged from Nicholas’s office. Hamlet loyally followed at my side, eager to take his place of choice back in my lap, his head propped on the more prominent bulge in my belly. Not quite big, but I couldn’t hide anymore.

So I no longer hid him.

The dress was designed specifically maternity, made to highlight my natural femininity or something. I picked it because it was a pretty lilac polka dot that worked well with black leggings and a pair of cute boots. It was time to play the part. The well-wishing, gossip, and social storm of my pregnancy spread through every contact, customer, and vendor servicing Atwood Industries.

Darius’s revelation caused problems. My reluctance to reveal the father caused more.

Social scandal meant more to me when Dad was alive—when everything I did and said was intended to honor the family and heighten my brothers’ statuses. But I didn’t have Josiah and Mike to worry about anymore. I had me. Mom. Bumper.

And I was doing a damn fine job leading my family and company.

“Now that’s just a sexy little dress.” Reed dropped the video game controller. He called me over with a curled finger. “Goddamn, Sarah. How are you feeling?”

His new code word for if I needed any hormones soothed in a wide ride on the couch. I flicked his forehead.

“Doctor’s appointment in a bit. I should behave.”

“What, not like you’re gonna get more knocked up.” He glanced over my shoulder at Max. “That can’t happen, right?”

Not like Max would answer. He hardly looked at me, never touched me, refused to speak to me beyond the simplest of questions or comments. Whatever guilt poisoned him pitted him in a darkness I could no longer reach. He stayed to protect me, to manage the bodyguards and security we organized, but he wasn’t my Max anymore.

And I had no idea what I did to lose him.

Or how to get him back.

“She’s at maximum capacity,” he said.

Reed’s devilish grin lured the dimple from our secrets. “Not yet. Want to get adventurous again, Sarah?”

“I feel like I have too many Bennetts in me already.”

“You can fit a couple more.”

“You’re wicked.”

His eyes, bright green and full of mischief, lingered over the neck line of my dress and fell to the swell of the baby.

“And you’re so fucking tempting.”

I glanced to Max for his declarations. He stared at his phone and entertained only his drink.

Quiet.

Sullen.

As always.

I pretended it didn’t hurt.

Nicholas returned as promised, insisting I wait so he could join me at the doctor’s appointment. His gaze brightened over me. I earned his smile.

It was a rare sight made more common in the past few weeks.

“You look…”

I shrugged. “Pregnant?”

“Lovely.” He motioned to the door. “I apologize for running late. The transition is more difficult than we anticipated.”

I handed him my contract, though I didn’t release the papers from my grip, even as he met my gaze. “Anthony looked over the agreement for my research. Everything is set. I’ve signed.”

Reed whistled. “Momentous fucking occasion. Who would have thought we’d have an Atwood research division in the company?”

“Not my father,” I said.

Nicholas agreed. “Or mine.”

“This is the right call,” I said. “Atwood Industries doesn’t have the resources or manpower to begin a research and development division. You’re actually helping me.”

“We’re helping each other,” he said. “President Atwood.”

Oh, that was a thrill. Especially as we had a new plan. Once Bumper was born, I’d take the remainder of my classes and earn my degree, all the while overseeing my labs in a directional capacity. Then, once I secured my doctorate, I’d lead the brilliant minds overseeing my research.

Dream come true.

I released the contract, and Nicholas tucked it into his jacket pocket. One discussion down. I broached the next subject carefully.

“I received an email today,” I said. “They found Bryant Maddox’s body.”

I anticipated my step-brothers’ reaction, though only Reed flinched when I mentioned his name. Max’s expression remained as dark as ever. Nicholas arched an eyebrow.

“I heard the same news.”

“He was pretty battered and bruised from the rocks under the cliff. They said he jumped and ruled his death a suicide.”

“He was a troubled man.”

“Don’t do that.” My voice lowered. “Don’t pretend, Nicholas Bennett. What really happened?”

“Apparently, Bryant wished to end his life.”

“I’m not stupid, Nick. How much did it cost you to keep this quiet?”

“Bryant made a few reprehensible, unredeemable decisions, and now he’s gone. I don’t want you to concern yourself with it.”

“I deserve to know the truth.” My gaze passed from Nicholas to Reed to Max. “From all of you. Haven’t we kept enough secrets from each other? It always ends with one of us hurt. Usually me.” I shrugged. “Sometimes Reed.”

“I promised you I’d do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Nicholas approached only to kiss my forehead. “I’m doing that, Sarah.”

I didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to think it, but his name was bitter on my tongue.

“And what about Darius? When will we be safe from him?”

“Soon.”

I shook my head. “That’s not good enough.”

“We can’t act on it and the company too. You wanted it this way. You wanted his family—and you got me. You wanted his empire—now you own it with me. Take your victories when they come, Sarah. Believe me. They are very few and far between in this world—”

It was a thud.

Not a flutter. Not a little tickle.

A freaking thud.

I gasped, my hands covering my belly. Nicholas paled, reaching for me. Max knocked his chair over. Reed leapt over the couch to my side.

“What’s wrong?” Nicholas squeezed my arm. “Sarah, what’s wrong—”

“Bumper…”

“Are you okay? Does something hurt? Here, sit—”

I grabbed Nicholas’s hand, pushing his palm against my tummy.

“No,” I whispered. “Bumper’s…bumping.”

The books said it would feel like a poke, but it wasn’t. More like a popped bubble and then a swift twump. I lost my breath in a teary gasp.

“He’s kicking?” Nicholas said.

“He’s kicking.”

Reed lunged at us, and I guided his hand to the little bumps. I waved Max over as well.

“Max, come touch this.” I wiped the tears from my cheek, blaming the hormones for the quick burst of overwhelmed joy and tender embarrassment. “It’s fucking weird.”

Max tensed, crossing his arms. “It’s fine.”

“Max.”

“Sarah, really.”

I might have thought he wasn’t attracted to me while pregnant, but I’d seen his glances, sensed his heat. Max avoided me for too many reasons, and it ached to not know why. He watched my lip tremble as I called for him, sighed, and shifted closer. He offered his hand, and I placed it over my tummy.

Bumper stopped. Max shrugged.

“I don’t feel it.”

“I think that’s all he did,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll do it again, just wait…”

Max pulled away. He skulked to the bar to pour yet another drink.

“We’ll bring him a picture of the sonogram.” Nicholas squeezed my hand. “Excited about the appointment?”

I was more than excited. I was thrilled.

Nicholas and I had never been…happy. The thought rocked me. We were in love. We survived so much horror. We had the company. Each other. But we never had the chance to exist beyond all the insanity.

Bumper kicked again.

I rubbed the swelling and fought the weepy tears. The good tears. “Let’s go see our son.”

Reed wished us luck, but I’d need more than that. I hated doctors and hospitals, though my pulmonologist never made me strip when he chastised me for my chronically disappointing lungs.

Not so for the OBGYN.

Everything about the office intimidated me, from the backless gowns that either revealed too much of my bump or all of my butt to the weird metal instruments I didn’t want anywhere near me. Nicholas promised ice cream when we were done.

I wanted a cheese steak sub instead. Except without the steak.

I scooted onto the exam table. Nicholas squeezed my hand as the doctor jokingly referred to him as Daddy.

“All right, Ms. Atwood.” Doctor Liam squirted a bit of jelly over my tummy. “Your weight looks okay. The bloodwork is normal. How’s the asthma?”

“Fine,” I said.

She knew better and asked Nicholas. “How’s the asthma?”

I answered for him. “I use the inhaler maybe once a week.”

“Twice,” Nicholas said. “Twice this week.”

Doctor Liam nodded. “Well, as you progress, you might find the shortness of breath worsening. I want you to schedule a follow-up with your pulmonologist after this appointment. Tell Doctor Miller it’s important.”

“I’ll make sure he sees her,” Nicholas said. “Immediately.”

And he would. Nicholas had already summoned him on a house call to the penthouse after I had a particularly bad night of coughing. Doctor Miller wasn’t thrilled by the interruption to his schedule, but the invoice was more than satisfactory to earn his personal cell-phone number.

The gel spread over my belly, and Doctor Liam pulled the ultrasound machine close. She grinned.

“Okay, let’s see the little guy.”

Nicholas took my hand. I swallowed the excitement, holding my breath as the screen blinked and then he was there.

In all his fuzzy glory.

The black and white contrast of a little head, wiggling toes, and a whole lot of bumping as Doctor Liam harassed him with the wand to make him move.

“Okay…” She took a few pictures and nodded. “The baby is growing very nicely. Getting plenty of oxygen, even if Momma isn’t.”

Hilarious. I politely smiled.

“And everything is looking just perfect. Here’s Baby’s head, and down here is Baby’s little arm. Let’s see if we can turn a little—”

The wand poked again. I bit my lip. Nicholas stared, transfixed at the screen. He pointed.

“And there?”

Doctor Liam nodded. “Toes. Baby’s a little curled up, but that should let us see everything very clearly.”

I did see everything. A beautiful, perfect little Bumper, snug and cozy in the safest place for him.

“Aha!” She took another picture. “Congratulations, you two. She is a perfectly healthy baby.”

My heart stilled, and my intake of air crashed against a rapidly closing airway.

I sat up, staring at the screen. “What did you say?”

I didn’t want her to repeat it. I couldn’t handle if she said it.

Nicholas gripped my fingers until they threatened to break. I didn’t care. I gripped him just as hard.

“I said you two will be the proud parents of a healthy baby girl.”

A girl.

Now my throat did close, but I’d never reach my inhaler.

A girl.

Oh, no.

Not this.

Anything but…

“Are you sure?” Nicholas’s voice snapped, hard. “Absolutely sure that the baby is…a girl?”

Doctor Liam pointed to the screen. “Right there. I’m sorry, you indicated you wanted to know the gender when we made the appointment…”

No.

I didn’t want to know the gender.

I only wanted to know one gender.

A boy. A male heir. The only reason Darius Bennett had ever forced his sons to kidnap me, imprison me, and rape me.

He wanted a male child, the rightful heir to my father’s ridiculous will that stated I was not worthy enough to tend to my family’s empire, to hold the power of the company, to act in any aspect.

My father trusted an unborn child more than his own daughter.

And Darius seized that opportunity to force that child within me.

A girl.

Bumper was a girl.

The thought crippled me. I wheezed, and Nicholas hurried to offer me the inhaler. I puffed, but it didn’t help. This wasn’t asthma. This was fear. Choking, gasping, terrible fear that sliced through me and threatened the wiggling little bundle of innocence who didn’t belong in a world of terror and misfortune.

Doctor Liam cleared her throat. “Ms. Atwood, Mr. Bennett, I understand some parents hope for one gender over the other, however; you’ll find that whether your baby is a boy or girl, they’re still your child.”

She didn’t understand, and her words only caused more pain. I didn’t know if Bumper was our child, and the only thought more horrifying than the baby being female was if she were Darius’s daughter.

I hadn’t dared to consider it. In my own foolishness I revealed the pregnancy and played my hand, challenged Darius and moved on the Bennett Corporation. I never considered that at the end of nine months, it’d fall apart.

He’d hurt the baby.

Worse.

He’d kill the baby.

Nicholas’s eyes hardened. His jaw clenched, but the mellow smoothness of his voice hadn’t changed, hadn’t revealed the danger.

“Doctor Liam,” he said. “I will give you one hundred thousand dollars if you alter the sonogram.”

I blinked. So did my doctor.

“Excuse me?” she whispered.

“One hundred thousand dollars if you misread the sonogram and declare the child to be male.”

“I…can’t…”

“I will write you a check immediately. To either you or your practice. Consider it a donation for the care you’ve provided Ms. Atwood.”

“You want me to lie about the sex of the baby?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I shook my head, my words lost in a tight wheeze. “Because we have no choice.”

“I don’t understand.”

Nicholas leaned forward. “You don’t need to understand. Change the result of the sonogram.”

“I can’t,” she said. “Anyone with even a rudimentary understanding of human anatomy will recognize that this…” She circled Bumper’s little bottom. “Is female.”

“Then find another sonogram and label it as Ms. Atwood’s results.”

“I—”

I held her gaze, unable to hide the fear prickling the tears in my eyes. “Please.”

“One hundred thousand,” Nicholas said. “You know our families. The money is good, and it’s yours for this favor.”

Doctor Liam hesitated, her eyes fluttered closed. “If this ever gets out—”

“It won’t,” he said. “Please. Find us a replacement picture and the money is yours.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She rose to her feet. The screen flicked off, and Bumper disappeared. “This is…insanity. I’ll be back. Don’t…go anywhere.”

The door shut behind her, and my tears rattled me from head to toe. Nicholas leaned over me, kissing my forehead, gripping my hand.

“Darius can’t know,” I said. “The baby will be born in four months. We can’t wait any longer, Nick. He’ll kill her. He’ll kill me.”

“Not going to happen.” Nicholas caressed my cheek. “Nothing has changed. We can hide Bumper’s gender until she’s born, and he’ll never find out. Nothing has changed.”

He kissed me. The golden halo in his eyes returned, strengthened with a sudden, fierce pride.

“We’re having a little girl.” His smile seared through the fear.

A little girl. I sucked in a breath. Then another.

We had a healthy baby.

Boy or girl, it didn’t matter anymore. She was healthy. She was perfect. She was mine.

And nothing was going to harm her.

“Your father should be terrified,” I whispered.

Nicholas frowned. “Why?”

“Because if one Atwood woman nearly killed him?” My voice steeled with a newfound confidence. “Imagine how much destruction two Atwood women will cause.”