Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Excuse me?” Father hisses.
“You know damn well I had nothing to do with those allegations.” I look at Alana, who’s squirming in her chair. “The agreement you two have is done. Consider this not only my resignation but a warning. Let me walk away, or I will expose every fraudulent deal you two have pushed through the last five years.”
Father shoots from his chair. “You’re blackmailing me?”
“Sit down,” I growl.
“I will do no such thing. These land deals are nothing but—”
“Forged surveys. Land you claimed to be uninhabitable to make more money.”
Charles stands, putting his hands out to me. “Theo, son. There’s no need for this. Let’s talk—”
“There’s nothing to discuss. My terms are simple. I want out. You can have your company. Your deceit. I don’t need a single cent from you. I want to be rid of it all.”
“And what exactly do you think you’re going to do with this? Expose us?” My father grabs his stomach and laughs. “Son, I thought you were smarter than this.”
“I want out.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then I go public—”
“Theo, you can’t be serious,” Alana chimes in, but I ignore her.
“I want it in writing. Dissolve the contract. Go through with the merger if you want; I don’t give a fuck. But I want nothing to do with any of it. I’ll step down and walk away, and you won’t come after me or anyone—”
“You ungrateful little shit—”
“Alfred, please, let’s calm—”
“If you don’t agree with my terms, this information goes public. You can choose to live the rest of your lives with the success you’ve earned, or you can have nothing.” I meet my father’s eyes, my expression impassive. His face turns red, and Charles looks like he’s about to pass out.
My father drops his snarl, and an eerie calmness washes over him. “Is that what you think will happen?”
“I don’t think. I know,” I state.
“Then you didn’t do your homework. You forget I’ve been planning for you to take over Monroe Investment Corp since you were still in your whore of a mother’s stomach. Your name is on every document I’ve ever signed, including all those land deals.” His smug smile eats away at my confidence. I want to look at Craig for confirmation, but it will show my cards. “That’s right, son. If I go down, so do you.”
“These go back way before I even stepped foot in this office.”
“You’ve always been my prodigy, son. There was never not a time I didn’t include you in my legacy.”
I stand. “I may go down with you, but I’d rather go down in flames than agree to the hell you’ve planned for me.”
Alana gasps. Her father reaches for her hand while glaring at me with contempt.
“I’m walking away, and you’re going to let me. You have forty-eight hours.”
Charles quickly stands. “Theo, you need to consider Alana. You will be leaving her too. She’s innocent in all this.”
“Then you’ll make the right decision and think about her future.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” My father straightens his shoulders and adjusts his tie. “I would hate to see you fail. Or see anyone else get hurt—”
I shoot up from my chair. “I swear to God, if you fucking dare—”
“Theo.” Craig sticks his hand out, stopping me. I hold my tongue while my father storms out of the room. Charles follows with his stone cold bitch of a daughter. I look to Craig. “I need to know how far back my name has been signed on any MIC documents. Can this come back to hurt me?”
“As far as I could tell, your name was on final sales, but nothing concerning the land survey. But that wasn’t our initial focus.”
“Then make it our focus now. I need to know.”
“If it happened without your knowledge, the court could consider that involuntary liability. We would just argue you were unaware of what or how much fraudulent activity was occurring.”
“Just find out.” My father could be bluffing. But he also could not be. Craig leaves, and I pull out my phone and hit Fay’s number, my father’s warning blaring in my mind. After the fourth ring, she answers.
“Hey.”
“Jesus, what the fuck took you so long to answer?”
“I didn’t hear my phone. I was trying to make this—oh, shit!” A squeal echoes through the phone, followed by a screeching sound.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Shit. This—the stupid carrot got jammed! How does a carrot get jammed in a billion-dollar juicer?”
“I don’t know. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I mean. . . I’m doing better than the juicer. I think it’s, well. It’s dead. The carrot killed it. It looks like a crime scene in your kitchen!” She laughs, bordering on hysterical. “It’s on the wall!” My shoulders ease. “Oh my god! I’m sitting here babbling. How’d it go? Have you had your meeting yet? Do you need a pep talk?”