“How kind,” I bite off.
“I’m here because it’s serious business—and I do meanbusiness.” She holds my gaze. “Blackthorn Holdings is being sued by Cooper Daley.”
“What the fuck?” I’m back on my feet, rubbing grit from my eyes. “Tell me you’re kidding. That goddamned rat, I knew I should’ve—”
“Nope.” She reaches into her tote bag and pulls out a manila folder. But before I can take it, she jerks it out of reach. “Nuh-uh. Before you take this, you have to agree that you’re not going ostrich-man again. No more burying your head in the sand.”
“Let me read it,” I growl. “Fucking Daley isn’t going to get away with anything.”
Satisfied, she passes the folder over, just as Ares wanders into the room with a yawn, drawn by her voice.
When he sees her, his thick tail wags furiously, and she falls to her knees beside him.
“Hi, big guy!” she coos. “It was so mean of Ethan to keep you away from everyone who loves you, wasn’t it?”
I tune out her baby talk as I flip through the papers.
Christ.
Most of it’s legal jargon, but there’s a summary page near the back that sums up the situation.
When my lawyers drew up the deal, I didn’t think much about the fine print.
Specifically, the stuff that says Daley’s firm would only partner with me directly as CEO and sole representative of the company.
In other words, a Blackthorn by blood.
Which means all those emails I ignored—
Shit.
Now I’ve de facto ‘resigned’ and put us in breach of contract. Technically, I never sent any official notice.
For the lawyers, technicalities aren’t good enough.
Cooper wants to buy out the rest of the resort for pennies on the dollar.
An unlikely, backstabby penalty clause in a contract I farted off because at the time it seemed ridiculous.
I wanted easy money and a chance at a redemption.
A win, a change, and a future with—
No.
Don’t even think her name, you fucking corkscrew.
My own lawyers who reviewed it at the time brushed it off and barely commented, though.
After all, what was the likelihood I wouldn’t be around?
Especially when they knew I was about to be a happily married, fully vested man.
“That scheming ball of ratshit,” I grind out.
Margot looks up from the floor where she’s still petting Ares.
“I’m shocked you ever trusted him.” She shrugs. “Looks like your instincts were right.”
