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I can feel his stare on me as I let loose, soaking up the adrenaline, feeling anything but numb. I take another turn that has us edging the shoulder briefly before I find purchase on the cement.
“Cee, what is happening right now? Is this some sort of cry for help?”
I grin, shaking my head like a lunatic, letting the music fuel me. “We’re waking up ghosts, Rye, and it’s way too late for help.”
“Waking up ghosts, huh? Well, I’ll be honest, I’m not interested in becoming one of them, and I’m too fucking pretty to die so young. Slow the fuck down!”
My answering laugh is maniacal, and I can feel the fear rolling off him. “Relax.”
“Not fucking likely.” He cranes his neck to look behind us. “Are we running from someone?”
“Not this time.” I take one last turn, and we fishtail into the entrance of the plant. With ease, I whip us into a parking spot and glance at Ryan, who’s varying shades of white. Grinning, I glance up at the building and feel no apprehension. I can do this. I can free myself. I’ve got the strength to try. And if the stars are kind enough to align for me, maybe I can forgive myself, forgive them, and finally move on. “I think I’m ready.”
Ryan dry heaves next to me. “I’m going to need a minute.”
I sit at one of the conference tables adjacent to the lobby as Ryan guides me through the proposal page by page. Once he’s satisfied, he takes the seat next to me and hands me a pen. “Initial here, and here.”
He flips another as I scan the lines. “We discussed these articles earlier in detail. By signing this, you agree to the terms of sale.”
I’m about to gain a fortune, and nothing about it excites me, aside from the good the money can do. I’ve done well enough on my own, but this move will make me a ridiculously wealthy woman. Along with the stock inherited on my twentieth birthday and because of Roman’s untimely death, I became the majority shareholder of Horner Technologies. His colon cancer diagnosis was swift, as was his death, leading to what I imagine was an undignified end. All the money in the world couldn’t help him as he withered away, overlooking his kingdom. I don’t know the details, and I didn’t bother taking part in a last-minute attempt to try and mend our relationship.
I didn’t shed a tear the day I got the phone call from his hospice nurse, nor did I attend his funeral. I keep expecting that guilt to kick in, so far, it hasn’t.
Now I just want to be free of my obligation to him and his distorted idea of a legacy along with a name that stands for everything that broke us—power, money, and greed.
Sometimes I wish I would have remained asleep, blind to his evil deeds, and those of others like him. But I made the most of my knowledge using it to start a campaign against CEOs with the same delusion of legacy. With Collin, I started a nonprofit with an emphasis on social welfare and employee association programs. A direct opposition to Roman’s career path. Not only that, I also used his riches to fund the startup. And under the umbrella of the foundation we’ve got a vast number of lawyers, Ryan included, who’ve made it their life’s mission to expose and seek justice on corporations, just like Horner Technologies, and bring them to their knees for shitty business practices.
We’ve been wildly successful.
Amid my crisis of conscience, I’ve decided to set new plans into motion. When we arrived at the plant, after a brief tour, we secured a conference room, and I dropped the bomb on Ryan. After a two-hour yelling match, he agreed to draw up the paperwork so I could sign over my rights to the foundation to Collin. After this sale, I’ll wire a substantial amount of the proceeds to keep it going for years to come. I’m proud of the legacy we created in such a short amount of time, but with all of the pain I’ve caused my ex-fiancé, it’s a gesture of consolation. Collin has been by my side since the beginning. But by his side I can no longer be, and I trust him completely to do what’s right with it.
With the stroke of a pen, I can start over in whatever way I choose. And maybe it’s for the best if I pack up sooner than later. Perhaps this was a fool’s errand. It was an emotional decision to come, but at least I can use this as an excuse to do some good. But it’s my heart in the driver’s seat now as I click the pen and press the tip to paper, pausing when I see the logo underneath the buyer’s signature line. The company name was undisclosed with the offer, but there’s no mistaking the
emblem glaring back at me.
A raven.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan senses the shift in my posture as my eyes dart between him and the lawyer, whose name evades me as he hovers a few feet away, making sure all T’s are crossed. Ryan leans in on a whisper. “I looked into it when we got the offer. The company is legit, and the CEO is just another billionaire who saw a business opportunity.”
“Where is he?”
Ryan frowns. “He?”
“Tobias King,” I finally voice the name of the secret my heart’s been screaming for six long years.
The lawyer clears his throat, his gaze lingering on Ryan for backup he doesn’t get before he turns to me. “Ms. Horner, I assure you my client has—”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “Your name?”
Clearly offended, he gives me a clipped reply. “Matt Straus.”
“My apologies, Mr. Straus. But he obviously wants me to know.” I trace the wings with the pad of my finger. “Legit,” I say, stifling a laugh as his lawyer speaks up.
“Ms. Horner, the board has already signed off, this deal is in motion—”
“I’m aware of that, Mr. Straus. But it’s dead in the water without my say so, and I will not sign off until I’ve spoken with Tobias King. Privately.”
Ryan feeds off my vibe, his face going resolute as he eyes the lawyer with expectancy. And I love him for it. Ryan’s a shark, and that’s why he’s here.
