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I mean, with Brynn. Our family.
I can’t afford to dilute myself or my wealth.
Can’t afford to have other people like Mike Whitman taking my money from me.
From us. Brynn and me.
Before any of that, I decide I’ll get up, get dressed, and get the house feeling and looking more like a home in time for when Brynn decides to wake up.
I’m glad to see the kitchen and pantry are well stocked.
We won’t go hungry and I don’t have to thaw anything from the freezers.
Next, I check the ancient greenhouse that joins the house beside the library.
It’s in full bloom. Roses too, which is perfect for what I have in mind.
There’s a bathroom upstairs. Bathrooms all over the damned place, but the biggest and oldest. The most charming one is down here.
I laid the diamond pattern black and white tiles myself. Acid dipped the old cast iron claw tub and re-enameled it so it looks like it was made yesterday not a couple of hundred years ago.
The place is spotless, which I have the staff to thank. Even though I’m never here, they keep it all looking perfect because they just never know when I will drop in.
Reminds me…
I fish for my phone, eventually finding it near the stairs after calling my own number using the house phone.
How it got there I can only imagine, I smile to myself.
There’s missed call after missed call and the usual flurry of messages.
I make a face, but seeing Mack’s number a few times I figure I should get his side of the story.
Filling the tub slowly with hot water and suds, I crush rose petals in the water and around the tub when he picks up.
“Mr. Masters. Thanks for getting back to—” he says.
“I’m busy at the moment, Mack,” I sigh. “What can I help you with?” I ask, deliberately sounding as brash and uninterested as I can.
Hoping it’s not too over the top.
It’s not.
Mack spills his guts. It’s after hours so I imagine he’s had a few sips of something strong enough to get his confidence or to forget something entirely.
“Those men you fired today?” he asks, his voice shaking. “Well, they were only acting the way they did because they thought it was you in danger,” he says with a genuine note of finality.
His case for the men has been put forward.
I try not to sigh but wait to see what else he has to say.
There’s something else…
“And that woman? Denise?” he continues, lowering his voice as if his own phone has been tapped and it would make any difference. “She’s in with Whitman. I just know she is,” he says in a low tone. Almost hissing the last few words.
“What makes you say that?” I snap. “Whitman’s my right hand. Talk like that could see you joining your buddies from fired town,” I remind him.
“I wasn’t sure if you even suspected it or not, sir,” he says, swallowing hard. “But I know Whitman has all of us watched. I’m not as stupid as all that sir,” he remarks.
I nod to myself.
Good for you, Mack. But what else have ya got for me?
“Got a call from the Fanning group’s security,” he says. “Your biggest rival?” he says, refreshing the memory I don’t need fluffing.
“I know who they are, Mack,” I growl, hoping this is going somewhere.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but there was a message put out to major lenders.
“They want to try a hostile takeover this week. Buying you out by taking control of the board via Whitman and bribing the shareholders with dividends equal to your controlling stock.”
I’m not surprised I’m hearing this. The thought is always in my mind about that sort of thing happening.
It happens a lot nowadays. The bigger the company, the more valuable it is to someone who can buy its shareholders with promises.
What surprises me is I’m hearing it from Mack.
“I see,” I tell him, surprising him myself by being so calm.
“What should we do?” he asks, sounding desperate.
“We?” I ask him, laughing dryly. “You do what you’re fucking told. Do your job. Ignore Whitman and any messages. There’s nothing you can do,” I tell him and hang up.
My next reflex is to call Whitman. Reach down the phone and rip his fucking lungs out before feeding them back to him.
But that would let him know that I know. Can’t have that.
So the old bastard wants to pull the rug out from under me, eh?
There’s no way I could dump my stock this early without losing everything. Not legally anyway.
Unless…?
A thought occurs to me, and it makes me smile.
I don’t have to risk anything. I can just move my controlling stake in the company very quietly, just for a few days and just long enough for that cunt Whitman to expose himself without me even trying.
