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With that, I ended the call. Scrubbing my hand down my face, I cast my gaze around my office, taking in the dark leather furniture that surrounded me. I picked everything in this space myself, ensuring that it was functional and professional, while still comfortable. I spent way too many hours in here to be anything less than comfortable.
Another video call came through, and I accepted it. It was my assistant, Maxwell, and I’d been waiting to hear from him.
“Well?” I asked, arching a brow once his thin face filled the computer screen.
“I looked through the legal documents,” Maxwell began, getting straight to the point. I always liked that about him. “And I think I found a way for you to break ties with the company.”
I let out a long breath. This was what I had been hoping to hear. I never wanted to run the family company. My brother's death forced me into the position ten years ago. One accidental drug overdose saddled me with the responsibility.
I hated it. I spent so much time dealing with people I didn’t like, and I devoted even longer hours to making sure all logistics were taken care of. Who knew that running a billion-dollar candy company would be such a pain in the ass?
But the real problem was that running the family business reminded me too much of my wife. She was there when I took over the company, but ever since her death four years ago, I’d wanted out of Carrington Chocolate altogether. There were too many memories, ones that I wanted to bury permanently, and the fastest way to do that was to cut my tether to the damn company.
“Tell me how,” I demanded.
“Since you’re the last living member of your family, you’re obligated to run the company, right? So, the only way to get out of it is to have a child.”
“A child?”
“One you can leave the company to. Obviously, the kid can’t take over until they come of age, but in the meantime, the board of directors can find an acting CEO.”
I grunted in response, my mind swirling.
Of course, that was the only answer. Nothing could ever be easy. I was hardly father material, and it wasn’t as if I’d had a shining example of how to do it right. My father was an asshole. Cruel, cold, and demanding. He strongly favored my older brother, making sure I knew from the beginning that I’d never measure up to Nathaniel. He was the rightful prince to the chocolate throne, and that was fine with me. I planned to carve out another destiny.
Now, here I was, stuck running the company.
Since my father died a couple of years after Nathaniel and my mother–lovely woman that she was–succumbed to cancer when I was a teenager, I was the only Carrington left. So, Maxwell’s solution made sense. There was just one problem.
“How the hell am I supposed to get a child?”
Annoyance rippled through me as Maxwell fell silent for a long moment. I wasn’t seeing a woman and even if I did, it would be casual. I had no interest in developing feelings for someone again,ever.I couldn’t risk having my heart broken again, the way it was when I lost my wife.
“What about artificial insemination?” Maxwell asked timidly.
I was already shaking my head. “That will take far too long. I want to be free of the company by the end of the year.”
“It’s only January now…”
“Yes,” I snapped impatiently. “But the timeframe on IVF is too uncertain. I need to have someone pregnant in the next month or maybe two. Natural is the easiest way to do it. I just need a woman willing to do it.”
“A girlfriend?”
I shot him an unamused look. “Of course not. I just need an incubator for a few months.”
I thought about the options, but there were so few. I stood and crossed the room to the window, looking out over the grounds of my castle as I contemplated my next move.
“I want you to put out an ad online,” I finally said. “Offer $250,000 for biological product. Women only, age twenty-five to thirty years. Includes nine months in a secluded resort here in Switzerland. Online screening is mandatory.”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to look for in a potential mother of the child, but I had to start somewhere.
Maxwell wrote down everything I said, nodding. “And where would you like me to post this?”
I rolled my eyes as I turned away from the window. “That’s what I pay you half a million dollars a year for.”
Maxwell gave a sharp nod, and we ended the call. The conversation was done, decision made. Now, I could get back to work. Despite how much I wanted out of the company, I would not slack on my duties in the meantime.
A message from the security system slid across my computer screen and piqued my interest. I only had the system in place for the castle doors that were never used. That meant the back doors and the doors to the north wing.
