Capital Risk (21 page)

“Sarah, I can’t let you do this.”

I expected that, but it wouldn’t stop me. We were so close. One little sip, and we’d be free.

“Reed, if you knew what he did to me…what I went through…you’d already be pouring the champagne.”

Reed took my hand. His voice edged with a serious, dire tone I hardly recognized.

“Not a fucking second goes by that I don’t think about what happened to you. We all do. I can’t sleep at night. Max can’t even talk to you. And Nick?”

He stopped. My heart shuddered.

“What about Nick?”

“He’s spending
millions
to save you. He’s planned so much and done some really shady shit, and it’s only going to get worse. He will burn the world to root out Dad, and I doubt murder will ever satisfy him.”

“Then it’s good I’m doing this.”

“Blood won’t sate blood,” he warned. “I’ve seen it. For
years
, Sarah. My family pitted against yours. My mother was
murdered
seventeen years ago, and you are just now answering for her death.”

“It ends with Darius.”

“Not for you.” He glanced down. I didn’t touch my stomach though I longed to protect the little bump with a cross of my hand.

“The baby isn’t his,” I said.

“Does it matter? There’s still a
baby
. There’s still a child who is going to ask how and why and when he came into the world.”

“None of us have a choice in that.”

“Well, we have a choice in what we tell him about his conception,” Reed said. “Sarah, if you kill my father, you’ll feel safe. But will you feel
better
? Will you feel whole? Healed?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that way again.”

“Then let us help you.” He cupped my cheek. “Nick, Max, and I will handle it. You focus on doing whatever the hell you need to help you heal. One night with us isn’t going to change anything. Hell,
every
night with us wouldn’t help.” He bumped his forehead against mine. “Though I’d be willing to try.”

I wished it were that easy. I swallowed.

“I have to do this myself. This isn’t about healing or the baby. It’s strictly revenge. There is no justice for what Darius did, only vengeance. I won’t let Nick take this from me. Once Darius is gone, I can begin to recover, but it has to start with
me
.”

Reed rubbed his eyes. He looked away, casting a glance over the party I inadvertently ruined and the decisions I forced him to make for me, again and again.

The seconds stretched into a minute of desperate silence. He finally exhaled.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Let me get to the champagne.”

“Not going to happen. Uncork that thing. Come with me.”

I seized a shaky breath, stalking after Reed. He turned to me, speaking low and quick.

“Can you do this fast?”

“Yes.”

He flagged a nearby server and ordered with a forced smile. “Open a new bottle of champagne and fill glasses. In the back, I’ve reserved a bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey. Pour an ounce of that on the rocks.”

The server darted into the staging area. The prickle of fear encased me in goose bumps. I actually wished for the nausea just to purge some of the wickedness from me.

“You sure about this?” Reed asked.

I nodded.

“That makes one of us.”

The server returned, and Reed took the whiskey, offering me the water. He guided us to approach the cluster of Bennett Board members laughing near a display of multicolored orchids and a mosaic of delicate pebbles arranged into a mural.

He held out the drink, I poured the vial as he walked.

And that was it.

My heart thudded as though I sipped from the pesticide-infused poison myself. Reed nodded to the approaching trouble.

“Careful.” He said nothing else as Nicholas joined my side. Max hovered behind.

I didn’t trust his stare.

“You haven’t found Anthony Delvannis yet,” Nicholas said. He handed me a small glass.

Orange juice.

“Nope.” I sipped the drink. It eased the craving. “Couldn’t find him.”

“He’s talking to my father.”

Son of a bitch.

For an attorney, Anthony Delvannis consistently overstepped his bounds, broke his own rules, and demanded a respect from his clients that rivaled on obscene. He twisted confidence into arrogance. He was attractive, but it made him domineering. Intelligent, though he wavered between conceited and cunning. And rich—a man of means who earned whatever he desired.

Most often, that was a negotiated contract or judgement in his client’s favor.

Other times, it was a beautiful woman who succumbed to his every delight.

But I didn’t indulge in idle gossip.

Especially when I’d become the center of it soon enough.

I approached the group—Bennetts and board members, Atwood friends, powerful investors. I marched before the wolves and dared the pack to attack. I longed for it.

Anything would be better than the relentless dread pulsing through my body.

“Anthony, so great to see you!” I greeted my attorney with all the grace, class, and delicate acknowledgement I learned from the summers I spent split between science camps and finishing schools.

A tight cluster of men, each more powerful than the last, circled Darius Bennett.

But they made space for me.

Darius received me with an eager glance over my dress. He searched for any telltale evidence of his crimes and felt no remorse for reducing me to my most basic parts.

Once he looked upon me with lust. Now? With his rutting sated, I wasn’t even good enough to fuck. I existed merely to propagate the Bennett line.

He never respected me. Never feared me. Never thought I’d dare to anything to challenge him.

My only regret was that he wouldn’t live to see how I tore down his precious empire, brick by brick.

“My dear.” His words layered with false sincerity, like silk stitched with fiberglass. “I hadn’t expected the privilege of your presence today.”

“Surprise.”

Anthony nodded at me. “Sarah, good to see you.”

He didn’t add the word
finally
, but I knew it was there, hidden. Anthony dressed in a fine suit, but I never believed the pretention. His dark hair was long, pulled into a sleek ponytail. A little dangerous, a lot of trouble. He might have been handsome if he weren’t constantly criticizing my every decision.

“Sarah Atwood, I hadn’t expected to see you at a Bennett function.”

Bryant Maddox toasted me, but his eyes fixed on Nicholas. I debated not answering. Bryant attended Darius like the sycophantic waste of skin. He’d voted to breed me and kill me, and he had yet to answer for his crimes. He leered, but in hatred, not perverted excitement.

He didn’t know about the baby.

That was good. None of the Bennett board knew. The secret existed within our twisted family. Darius meant to use the truth against me, like it forged some sick bond between us.

It’d be over soon.

I greeted them with charm, bright and wholesome, just as Mom taught would best benefit Dad during his meetings and functions. I played the part of the hostess well, but I adopted my role as head of the Atwood family with greater enthusiasm.

“I knew this was the perfect opportunity to bring everyone together.” I said. A light waltz strummed from the nearby quartet. I preferred drums of war, but I wasn’t picky about my music. “This might be a first, Atwoods and Bennetts, all working toward a common goal.”

I raised my glass and greeted the Atwood board members who hesitantly joined our conversation. I hadn’t met with them personally for so long, but a pretty smile and pat to their arm forgave most indiscretions. Sam, Paul, and Devon were family friends and longtime investors, but Dad was careful to ensure they represented less than a quarter of our financial interests. Meeting with them was polite, but not required.

“I think we have much to discuss,” I said.

Nicholas and Max edged close, taking the offered champagne from the passing server. Reed presented Darius with the tumbler of whiskey though no words passed between the father and son. Any of his sons.

Darius no longer thought of them as family. He looked to
me
to fill that void.

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.”