Page 23 of Twisted Knight

“Great. Even better. If the deal is going to fail on rumors alone then it isn’t a very good deal to begin with. Problem solved.”

Chad hangs his head for a beat and draws in a deep breath. “This isn’t just a deal you’re trying to sabotage. It’s the trust of the board too. The last thing you want to do is piss off everyone who’s supposed to be in your corner.”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and give a curt nod. He’s right, but this isn’t the time or place to hash out something like this. It’s not even a discussion I should be having until I can gain my bearings after everything that has just been dumped on me.

There has to be a way to stop this.

“You forget. You were supposed to be in my corner too.” I shake my head and then walk away.

“Row. Wait!”

I don’t wait. Screw these men who think they can walk all over me.

I have to find a way to fix this. To stop this. To make TinSpirits mine.

If Holden thinks I’m going to let him control my destiny, he has another think coming.

What I’d give to tell them all to fuck off and walk out the door right now.

What I’d give to leave so they could see how valuable I really am.

But I can’t.

My heart sinks, threatening to break as the magnitude of this impossible situation weighs on me.

I blink back another shot of tears.

Gran, I promised you that I wouldn’t let him throw this company away. I promised and I intend to do anything and everything I can to keep it.

SEVEN

Holden

She’s a striking figure. Tall and statuesque. Confident and defiant. Even now, even after finding out about my purchase, she still carries that same posture as she walks toward her car.

She was a good choice for the face of TinSpirits.

The blond version of her anyway. I glance to the left of the window, where a framed poster of a marketing campaign rests against the wall. It’s the profile of her face. Her red lips twisted into the slightest of smirks as they toy with a straw between them. The signature white can of TinSpirits in her hand. Her green eyes peering sideways at the camera as if to say, You know you want to join me.

Then there are the ads for the signature brands of alcohol. The curves of her body beside a bottle of dark amber. Both shadowed. Both backlit. Both sensual.

And now she, the face of the company, walks all alone in the mostly empty parking lot toward what I can assume is her ride. Her head is still held high despite the crushing blow I dealt her a bit ago.

I study her from the wall of windows on the sixth floor and almost feel bad for her.

Almost.

But just like I was collateral damage all those years ago, she has the same fate now.

She reaches her car and looks back toward the building, almost as if she knows I’m standing here watching her. Judging her. Looking for hints of the pain I know she’s feeling inside to cross her pretty face.

I smirk.

If she thinks this is hard to process, she doesn’t know what’s about to hit her.

Just wait, Sunshine. I’m not done yet.

I slip a hand in my pocket and move out of the conference room. Time to implement round two of “commands and controls” for the day.