Page 30 of Last Wish Wedding

“He’s on the board of Maritime Holdings.”

“Ah.” Truman nodded slowly. “Where we have considerable shares. Big merger coming up for them. We stand to make a bundle.”

“He’s been making some interesting moves lately. Taking out loans against future earnings, selling personal assets.”

“Sounds like someone who needs money.” Truman studied his grandson. “I thought you didn’t like him. More so than the rest of the human race, that is.”

Mac smiled at the dig and brushed it off. He leaned forward, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t know he had an older brother. But do you remember David Prescott’s death a few years back?”

“Terrible business. Car accident, if I remember it right.”

“Turns out his wife was pregnant at the time, and she had a son, Noah.” Mac paused. “You know his mother, actually. It’s Kelsey.”

“My Kelsey?” Truman sat up straighter. “I had no idea…”

“She’s been raising Noah alone, with no help from them.” Mac’s jaw tightened. “Meanwhile, Margaret Prescott, no doubt urged by Jason Prescott, has filed for custody of Noah. Her will leaves Noah over half a billion dollars, what was his father’s inheritance.”

“Margaret’s a bit old to want to be raising a child. And what of Kelsey? Surely she’s fighting them.”

“You know how that will go. She doesn’t have a chance. Once Margaret’s gone, Jason will have control…”

“And by the sounds of it, he’ll spend it all before Noah can inherit anything. Kelsey doesn’t deserve that. Sweet girl. Excellent with old coots like me.” Truman’s eyes narrowed. “Those bastards.”

“I think Jason’s in trouble. Deep trouble. And he sees Noah’s inheritance as his way out. This merger was likely going to hold him over financially until he could get his hands on the kid’s money.”

“Over my dead body.” Truman pushed himself up from his chair with surprising vigor. “Get me my phone.”

“Grandad—”

“That woman is an angel. You’ve seen her with the people here, how she cares for them. For that boy.” Truman’s voice shook with anger. “And they want to make her worry about losing him? Criminal. Absolutely criminal.”

“What are you planning?”

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Truman’s face. “Before I die, I’d like to see Jason Prescott’s balls in a vise. And thanks to those Maritime Holdings shares, I think I know just how to do it.”

Mac watched his grandfather shuffle toward his study, phone already in hand. He hadn’t seen the old man this purposeful in months.

Mac drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, replaying the morning’s conversation. The old man had spent three hours making calls, pulling up old files, sketching out strategies. They’d even ordered lunch brought in so they wouldn’t lose momentum.

“Damn Prescotts,” Truman had muttered more than once. “Always taking what isn’t theirs.”

The feud went back decades. Mac remembered the stories—how the Prescotts had tried to squeeze Truman out when he was just starting, using their old money connections to block his contracts. But where they ruled from mahogany boardrooms through layers of managers, Truman had built his kingdom from the ground up. He knew every captain who’d ever sailed his ships, every foreman who’d run his warehouses.

“People make the profit, boy,” Truman always said. “They are the company.”

The Costigan wealth had begun with a single truck and warehouse, and had grown into a multi-billion dollar international shipping industry across land and sea. If you bought something online to be delivered to your home in the US, there was a good chance one of the Costigan transport lines had a hand in making sure it arrived unscathed and on-time.

Mac turned onto the coastal road, mind churning. What his grandfather had in the making would put a hurting on Jason Prescott, if they were right about this deal tiding him over until he got his hands on Noah’s inheritance. But it wouldn’t do anything to stop the custody challenge.

Even with all their resources, even if Kelsey accepted their help—and that was a big if after his recent misstep—money alone wouldn’t win this fight. The Prescotts had generations of influence behind them. Judges who owed them favors. Kelsey on her own, a nobody in the world of capital empires, was not going to win.

It burned him. And burned him again that he cared.

He found himself taking the turn toward Kelsey’s house instead of his own, barely registering the decision until he was pulling into her driveway. This was how it went with all of his decisions lately, decisions to invite her to sunset cruises or a jaunt to Portland. He didn’t think about them until the words were already tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could stop them.

The bass line of “Another One Bites the Dust” thundered through her open windows. Mac knocked, but the music drowned him out. After a moment’s hesitation, he pushed the door open.

“Kelsey?” he called out. Nothing.