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“Twelve,” he grits, his teeth grinding.
“Fifty.”
“You’re insane,” he hisses, leaning forward in his executive seat.
“I’m deadly serious,” I pause, leaning back in the chair that probably costs more than my car. “I wasn’t done.”
Edward’s face crinkles with confusion as he processes my words. “Fifty million is more than you could even fathom seeing in your pathetic lifetime. What else could you possibly want?”
“A seat on the board of Harrington Holdings.”
“There are no vacant seats,” he states immediately, shaking his head in dismissal.
“I’m sure you can make one for your future son-in-law.”
Edward shoots to his feet, his face turning a mottled red. “My what?”
Fighting desperately to maintain my calm demeanor, I rake my fingertips through my beard to buy me a few seconds before answering, “I guess it comes down to two things, Edward. What do you love more?” I waffle my hands in the air like a scale. “Your daughter or your freedom?”
He doesn’t reply right away, but I know his answer. I knew the answer a week ago when I decided this was going to be my play. This man, like most men in his position, values his money and power above everything else… Including his family.
“You’re a madman!” Edward exclaims, his face now florid with rage and fear. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with? I could destroy you. I could—”
“You could try,” I interrupt, not bothering to raise my voice to match his. “But by tomorrow morning, every major newspaper in this city will have copies of what’s in that envelope. The Tribune and The Sun-Times. I’ve already spoken with a very eager reporter at 60 Minutes. And the District Attorney’s office? Let’s just say they’ll have everything they need to build a very compelling case.”
“Cora… Why do you want to marry my daughter? It’s… It’s absurd.”
“Is it?” I shift slightly and cross my legs. “I’m a rising star in your company, Edward. I’m intelligent, ambitious, and now I hold your family’s future in my hands. In many ways, I’m the perfect match for Cora. But my why? Well, that’s my business.”
“She would never agree to this.” He exhales his defeat.
“She will,” I counter with certainty. “Because the alternative is her father dying in prison while she and her mother become beggars on the street. She’s a good girl, and she’ll do what’s necessary to protect her family.”
The fight quickly drains from him, his shoulders slumping as he meets my gaze with a weary resignation that tells me I’ve won before he even opens his mouth to answer. “How do I know you’ll destroy the evidence once I’ve given you what you want?”
“You don’t,” I reply honestly. “But what other choice do you have?”
He looks at the envelope again, then at me, and there is no denying the realization in his eyes that he is trapped with only one path forward. “The money,” he sighs finally, “will take time to arrange.”
“I understand.” I nod magnanimously. “You have one week. As for the board seat, I expect that to be in place by the next quarterly meeting.”
“That’s in a few weeks…”
“Then I guess you have a few weeks to figure it out. As for Cora…”
“I’ll talk to her.” Edward exhales, the words seeming to cost him something vital. “But I can’t promise she’ll agree.”
“She will,” I insist. “Because you’ll make her understand she doesn’t have another option.” After rising to my feet, I adjust my suit jacket. “I’ll expect your call by Friday with details about the money transfer. And Edward?” He looks up at me, his eyes filled with a hatred so pure that I can’t help but smile. “Don’t even think about double-crossing me, or these terms will be the least of your worries.”
I walk to the door while he stews at his desk. Wrapping my hand around the knob, I pause and turn around to look at him. “Oh, and one more thing. I expect to have dinner with my future wife tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. La Voûte Céleste.”
Chapter Two
Cora
The air in the back of this Town Car is so thick with the weight of what I’m being forced to do, it’s nearly suffocating. I stare out the window at the passing streetlights. The Gold Coast blurs into a smear of lights and shadows as we glide toward the restaurant for a dinner I’m being forced to attend. Though dinner is the least of my concerns.
Three blocks away.
