Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“If we don’t stop arguing,” he cuts in sharply, “we won’t be able to figure out what went wrong.”
That stops me.
The anger doesn’t leave, it just rises differently, colder, more alert. “What do you mean?” I ask, stepping closer.
My father scrubs a hand down his face. He looks older and tired. “Have you seen the news?”
I blink. “No.”
He gestures toward the wall-mounted TV. Grant grabs the remote and flicks it on.
The headline hits first.
FIRE AT DANFORTH STEEL FACILITY. BUILDING LOST. INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY.
My breath catches, and my pulse spikes as I watch the flames swallow the building.
“Is everyone okay?” I step forward until the images burn into my eyes. “What happened?” I whisper.
My father exhales like the air itself weighs too much. “Arson. Or negligence. Or a goddamn curse. I don’t know yet.”
“First things first, was anyone hurt?” I ask, and my father shakes his head.
“Okay, good. Objects can be replaced. People can’t.”
“We lost the whole facility, Victoria.” My father scoffs.
“I know, and it’s awful, but we have insurance. I’m sure everything will be okay.”
Grant’s laugh comes soft and smug. “Ah. See, that’s the problem.”
My father glares at him, then looks at me. “The policy on that building lapsed.”
My mouth falls open. “We let our insurance lapse on an entire facility?”
“It was supposed to be temporary.” He’s pacing now. “We were shifting assets during the merger with the Jamesons, and someone fucked up the paperwork. We didn’t catch it. And now—”
I swallow, the dread sinking deeper. “Now we’re liable.”
Grant taps the TV remote against his palm, eyes gleaming like he enjoys the drama. “Not just liable. Exposed. Vulnerable. Investors will panic. Rivals will circle. The competitors—”
“Enough,” my father snaps.
I cross my arms to steady myself. “What’s the plan? How do we fix it?”
“We don’t know yet,” my father admits, sliding his hands into his pockets. It’s the first honest thing I’ve heard him say in years. “We’ll weather the storm. We’ve done it before. Just have to tighten the reins. Cut nonessential spending. Delay a few expansions. We’ll get through it.”
Grant leans back casually against the edge of the desk. “Assuming it was just a fire.” His voice dipped in suspicion. “And not someone making a point.”
A chill spikes at the base of my spine. But I shove it down.
“No one is targeting us,” I say, too quickly.
Both men look at me. I glance away. Because the truth is—I don’t know. A fire starting on its own seems unlikely.
I don’t know anything anymore.
My father clears his throat. “Victoria, we need to be united. Image is everything right now.”
My laugh comes out rough and humorless. If a laugh could sound bitter, this one would be that. “United? You and Grant were just arguing about whose fault I was.”
My father stiffens. “We were discussing logistics.”
Grant’s lips curl. “Darling, you’re always a logistic challenge.”
I whip toward him. “Say one more word like that, and I’ll show you a logistic challenge.”
His smirk flickers. Just barely.
Good.
My father pinches the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t the time for dramatics.”
“Your definition of dramatics,” I say quietly, “is my definition of survival.”
Silence. Brief and heavy.
Grant pushes off the desk with a sigh. “Whether you like me or not doesn’t change anything. The merger is still standing. The market’s watching. Our names are tied together publicly. We need to make us official. We need to get married.”
“There is no us,” I hiss.
My father hits the desk with his hand. “Enough. We need to project stability until we get more information.” He turns to Grant. “While I agree we need to go public with your relationship—”
“We don’t have a relationship,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Victoria. We do. I’ve waited five years for you to finish college, and don’t think I don’t know you stalled. So this is happening. Your family needs me more than ever, so don’t piss me off.”
“Grant, I agree, and appreciate your family’s help . . .” My father turns to me. “I won’t hear another objection from you. You’ve always known what’s expected.” His words land in my belly like a punch. I’ll find a way out of this arrangement, but for now, I need to bide my time to come up with a plan.
I blow out a breath. “Fine.” I start to pace. The room suddenly feels too small. “But no more talking about a wedding. We have more important things to deal with. Like the burning buildings.”
“For now,” Grant adds. I want to punch his smug face, but instead, I turn to my father, who is kneading his temples.
My father’s jaw tics. “It was just one plant.”
“Just one plant,” I repeat, staring at the flaming building on the screen. “But what if it isn’t the last?”
No one answers, because there is no answer. There’s only tension. And fear.
My father rounds his desk. “We’ll figure out what went wrong,” he says firmly. “We always do.”