Sarah Atwood has reappeared.” My father met my gaze. He baited me to anger. He didn’t deserve any reaction.
Bryant chuckled. “The whore needed another taste, huh, Nick? I thought the last time the Bennetts got their fill she wasn’t very happy.”
My father’s lip twitched, a cross between satisfied smile and irritated scowl. “Oh, I can assure you, Sarah Atwood… suffered .”
“Good,” Bryant said. “That slut cost us millions of dollars. We need to earn it back.”
The Board nodded. Stanley, our oldest member, had a heart weakened with age and blackened with power. His voice cracked, choked on his salivating thoughts of what we’d forced Sarah to do.
“Bryant,” he said. “I’m sure she has her reasons for reneging on our arrangement. If she wants to live, she’ll provide the promised shares. A fair trade, I should think.”
My father taught us never to retreat from a challenge. We punished the fool who dared to flex instead of bow.
It wouldn’t be a fair trade until she bled.
He pressed play on the recording emailed to the executives of both Atwood Industries and the Bennett Corporation. Only I noticed Sarah also uploaded the video to YouTube.
She did it without consulting us. Without considering the implications.
What might have been a push for power would become her Last Will and Testament.
The video began with a bright, smiling, beautiful vision of the woman I loved, grinning at the camera with a feminine grace laced with her family’s thorns. She sat at a desk, palms folded, in a perfectly professional blouse. She had curled her hair, dabbed modest makeup over her cheeks, and disguised the flush of her nausea with raw enthusiasm.
She fooled everyone but me.
Everyone but my father.
“ Good morning .” The recorded Sarah spoke delicately, sweetly, and as if the teeth she bared in her smile wouldn’t bite and punish. “ I wanted to issue this announcement myself, as head of the Atwood family and company.”
The board shifted, eying the screen and wishing they could rip her from the recording just to bind her at the table.
“I wish to thank you all for your patience and compassion during these past few months as I’ve recovered from various health issues. I’m pleased to say, thanks to the loving support of my step-family, I am completely rejuvenated. They’ve offered me a new outlook on life, this company, and how best to secure our futures. I am eager to return to work.”
I steeled my expression. It wouldn’t save me. Either the board would believe I organized Sarah’s disobedience, or they’d assumed the truth—that I had absolutely no control over the woman who owned a significant portion of the company.
Neither scenario endeared me to the board.
In fact, it endangered me more than Sarah. I possessed enough of the company to challenge my father, but I was an easier, less volatile target than Sarah. If I died, my shares reverted to him.
Sarah spoke to the camera with a smile of genuine confidence. Her speech rolled with ease. She assumed everyone, everywhere listened, as if her words were the most important in the world. It was a trait she inherited from her father.
“ My first order of business will be a…challenging one.” Sarah breathed deeply, to prove she had no lingering symptoms of the asthma attack we had claimed forced her from her position. “ For years, Atwood Industries has strived to maintain a positive, wholesome, and family-oriented business plan. After the tragedies that stole my father and brothers this past year, I’ve been searching for a reason to end the mourning. I found it, finally, right where it always was. With family.”
Goddamn it. I remembered this speech, though it wasn’t first delivered by Sarah Atwood. Months ago, my father spoke of family as we attempted a takeover of Atwood Industries. We offered Sarah far more than the company was worth, and she answered a perceived insult with a clause.
Only a male heir could control her
Bryant chuckled. “The whore needed another taste, huh, Nick? I thought the last time the Bennetts got their fill she wasn’t very happy.”
My father’s lip twitched, a cross between satisfied smile and irritated scowl. “Oh, I can assure you, Sarah Atwood… suffered .”
“Good,” Bryant said. “That slut cost us millions of dollars. We need to earn it back.”
The Board nodded. Stanley, our oldest member, had a heart weakened with age and blackened with power. His voice cracked, choked on his salivating thoughts of what we’d forced Sarah to do.
“Bryant,” he said. “I’m sure she has her reasons for reneging on our arrangement. If she wants to live, she’ll provide the promised shares. A fair trade, I should think.”
My father taught us never to retreat from a challenge. We punished the fool who dared to flex instead of bow.
It wouldn’t be a fair trade until she bled.
He pressed play on the recording emailed to the executives of both Atwood Industries and the Bennett Corporation. Only I noticed Sarah also uploaded the video to YouTube.
She did it without consulting us. Without considering the implications.
What might have been a push for power would become her Last Will and Testament.
The video began with a bright, smiling, beautiful vision of the woman I loved, grinning at the camera with a feminine grace laced with her family’s thorns. She sat at a desk, palms folded, in a perfectly professional blouse. She had curled her hair, dabbed modest makeup over her cheeks, and disguised the flush of her nausea with raw enthusiasm.
She fooled everyone but me.
Everyone but my father.
“ Good morning .” The recorded Sarah spoke delicately, sweetly, and as if the teeth she bared in her smile wouldn’t bite and punish. “ I wanted to issue this announcement myself, as head of the Atwood family and company.”
The board shifted, eying the screen and wishing they could rip her from the recording just to bind her at the table.
“I wish to thank you all for your patience and compassion during these past few months as I’ve recovered from various health issues. I’m pleased to say, thanks to the loving support of my step-family, I am completely rejuvenated. They’ve offered me a new outlook on life, this company, and how best to secure our futures. I am eager to return to work.”
I steeled my expression. It wouldn’t save me. Either the board would believe I organized Sarah’s disobedience, or they’d assumed the truth—that I had absolutely no control over the woman who owned a significant portion of the company.
Neither scenario endeared me to the board.
In fact, it endangered me more than Sarah. I possessed enough of the company to challenge my father, but I was an easier, less volatile target than Sarah. If I died, my shares reverted to him.
Sarah spoke to the camera with a smile of genuine confidence. Her speech rolled with ease. She assumed everyone, everywhere listened, as if her words were the most important in the world. It was a trait she inherited from her father.
“ My first order of business will be a…challenging one.” Sarah breathed deeply, to prove she had no lingering symptoms of the asthma attack we had claimed forced her from her position. “ For years, Atwood Industries has strived to maintain a positive, wholesome, and family-oriented business plan. After the tragedies that stole my father and brothers this past year, I’ve been searching for a reason to end the mourning. I found it, finally, right where it always was. With family.”
Goddamn it. I remembered this speech, though it wasn’t first delivered by Sarah Atwood. Months ago, my father spoke of family as we attempted a takeover of Atwood Industries. We offered Sarah far more than the company was worth, and she answered a perceived insult with a clause.
Only a male heir could control her
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