Capital Risk (24 page)

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.”

Yes, I would.

In a heartbeat.

No—in the
wub-bub
flutter of Bumper’s heartbeat.

“She’s insane,” Bryant said. “It’s as if Mark Atwood sits before us. She’s fucking dangerous. We should have put her down when we had the chance.”

Stanley silenced him with a wave of his claw. “Ms. Atwood, surely you realize what you propose is illegal, unethical, and
immoral
.”

“All is fair in vengeance,” I said. “Be grateful I’m offering you the chance to live.”

Peter Hannigan grunted. “We can’t let this child best us. I have a lot of money invested in this company. I’ll be damned if I see a Bennett bend to the will of an Atwood.”

“You’re mistaken,” I said. “I’m not doing this for the Atwoods. I’m doing this for a
Bennett
. For this baby. You wanted my farm. You wanted an alliance between Atwood and Bennett.” I extended my arms, gesturing to my silent but stalwart step-brothers. “Reap what you sow, gentlemen. I am
eager
to begin this new partnership.”

Stanley shook his head. “Ruthless child.”

“You created me.”

“I much preferred the gentle Sarah Atwood,” he murmured. “At least then you were a creature to be pitied. Your father would be proud of the monster you’ve become.”

“It’s an honor to bear that insult.”

“It shouldn’t be, Ms. Atwood. It shouldn’t be.”

But it was. Their surrender crashed in waves, first in frustrated frowns, then anger, and finally a haphazard acquiescence threatened within insult. Stanley was the first to bow his head and agree. Clyde, Jacob, and Peter followed immediately.

Only Darius and Bryant scowled with defiance.

I loved it.

Their helplessness. The rage.

The bitter defeat crumbled everything they built at their feet. It was my chance to steal what they’d created and offer it to the ones who deserved it.

Nicholas. Max. Reed.

Me.

The baby.

Darius stood. My step-brothers tensed, circling me, as though he would dare to harm me now.

Not while I carried the child.

Not when he willed it to be his.

His voice razed with sharpness, the edge of blades that had yet to puncture my skin.

“I am convinced, my dear,” he said. “You can have the company if you wish. I resign. I have no need for it.”

“You don’t frighten me.”

“Yes, I do.” His smile would rend steel. “Because you know the truth. You are nothing, Sarah. You tried to kill me and failed. You may have an empire, but, without my sons, you’d still be naked and chained to a bed, snapping like a twig over my knee.”

“I haven’t broken yet, Darius.”

“Yes, you have. Without that bastard in your belly, you are worthless to us. To everyone. Your father knew it. Your brothers knew it. Only your womb has worth, and now that it is seeded and swelled, you’ve fulfilled your only purpose in life.”

I pretended the thought didn’t horrify me. It wasn’t true. Just another manipulation.

Just another lie.

Darius threatened me without violence, without fear. He used the truth to bind me.

“Take the company and your brothers,” he said. “But realize this. No matter what you do, no matter how many times you rub your belly and think of names and booties and cute little songs to sing, you are
pregnant
. You were
bred
because I willed it. You carry a child because I forced it inside of you. Celebrate your victory today. But ultimately? I’ve ruined you, my dear.”

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.”