Takeover: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Series Book 1) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Lana Grayson
father exhaled. “And had the cunt taken the offer, their land, crops, animals, and livelihood would have been ours to burn. Instead, we’re faced with greater challenges.”
Max nodded. “Then we make her sell. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
And he did, often and ruthlessly. But no violence would aid us, not when she twisted the circumstances and bound herself in awkward legality. Inheritance law was difficult enough, especially following her brothers’ deaths.
“Selling makes no difference now,” I said.
“The company is held in her trust until...” My father twitched. “She presents a male heir.”
Reed pulled his phone and made a note. “So we scour their family tree. Find a cousin or something.”
“No.”
My father offered nothing more. I lowered the cigar.
“No?” I hesitated. “We let her retain the rights to the company?”
“No, we are not searching for a male heir.”
“Then how—”
“We have no time to waste. We have less than a year before our influence and shareholders are compromised.” My father shook his head. “We could divert resources to find a distant relative willing to sell, but Atwood’s little bitch would thrive during months and months of litigation.”
I straightened. “It is the cleanest solution. A clear-cut buyout. No unpleasant bartering for investors’ votes. No crises. No stock crashes. We’ll present to whomever we can find.”
“And it will fail again!” His voice cracked over the room. “She refused our offer. Worse, she humiliated us. Buying the company is no longer an option. And now, we are forced to regain our honor from the Atwoods.” He pitched a goblet of wine into the hearth. The glass shattered. “From the Goddamned Atwoods !”
Reed shifted away from the sputtering fire. “Then what do you—”
“I want Sarah Atwood’s male heir.”
The fire popped. My father’s rasping breath echoed against the crackle of the fire.
The blaze fueled the rage churning within him. He stared, but the Darius Bennett I recognized—the man I emulated and respected—no longer existed. A demonic shell darkened over him as fury crept into madness.
I hated myself for the question I was forced to ask.
“You want her heir ?”
My father spoke into the fire. “She forced the clause. Atwood Industries belongs to her yet-to-be-conceived son . All rights and wealth, institutions and assets will be granted to an unborn child.”
A chill slowed my thoughts.
It should have silenced me.
It should have prevented me from understanding exactly what my father wished.
Unfortunately, my conscience flaked to ash years ago. I was Nicholas Bennett. The heir to the Bennett empire. My sins, my crimes, and my regrets existed only to protect the family.
Reed didn’t understand. “She doesn’t have a son yet.”
Max exhaled a curtain of smoke to hide his realization. I shared his shiver. My father’s grin would desecrate everything pure within his power.
Like Sarah Atwood.
“She will have a son,” my father said. “Her heir will belong to the Bennetts.”
I stilled my movements and wished my heart had ceased with it.
“And one of you will create it.”
The clock on the mantle chimed ten o’clock. Not nearly late enough for talk of this nature.
Max hesitated. He posed the question to me to avoid the wide-eyed insanity of our father.
“You want us to seduce Sarah Atwood?”
No.
Seduction never crossed his mind.
Until Bethany, my father never expressed any sympathy for the family. Their deaths enthralled him, and their misery entertained him. Any misfortune was a cause for celebration.
No one would seduce the girl.
“I will have an heir to Atwood Industries.” My father didn’t lower his voice, despite the evil he summoned. “I’ll control everything and everyone within that family.”
“But—”
“Everything she loves, and everything she has worked so hard to build and maintain, will be lost the instant that girl bears a Bennett for a
Max nodded. “Then we make her sell. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
And he did, often and ruthlessly. But no violence would aid us, not when she twisted the circumstances and bound herself in awkward legality. Inheritance law was difficult enough, especially following her brothers’ deaths.
“Selling makes no difference now,” I said.
“The company is held in her trust until...” My father twitched. “She presents a male heir.”
Reed pulled his phone and made a note. “So we scour their family tree. Find a cousin or something.”
“No.”
My father offered nothing more. I lowered the cigar.
“No?” I hesitated. “We let her retain the rights to the company?”
“No, we are not searching for a male heir.”
“Then how—”
“We have no time to waste. We have less than a year before our influence and shareholders are compromised.” My father shook his head. “We could divert resources to find a distant relative willing to sell, but Atwood’s little bitch would thrive during months and months of litigation.”
I straightened. “It is the cleanest solution. A clear-cut buyout. No unpleasant bartering for investors’ votes. No crises. No stock crashes. We’ll present to whomever we can find.”
“And it will fail again!” His voice cracked over the room. “She refused our offer. Worse, she humiliated us. Buying the company is no longer an option. And now, we are forced to regain our honor from the Atwoods.” He pitched a goblet of wine into the hearth. The glass shattered. “From the Goddamned Atwoods !”
Reed shifted away from the sputtering fire. “Then what do you—”
“I want Sarah Atwood’s male heir.”
The fire popped. My father’s rasping breath echoed against the crackle of the fire.
The blaze fueled the rage churning within him. He stared, but the Darius Bennett I recognized—the man I emulated and respected—no longer existed. A demonic shell darkened over him as fury crept into madness.
I hated myself for the question I was forced to ask.
“You want her heir ?”
My father spoke into the fire. “She forced the clause. Atwood Industries belongs to her yet-to-be-conceived son . All rights and wealth, institutions and assets will be granted to an unborn child.”
A chill slowed my thoughts.
It should have silenced me.
It should have prevented me from understanding exactly what my father wished.
Unfortunately, my conscience flaked to ash years ago. I was Nicholas Bennett. The heir to the Bennett empire. My sins, my crimes, and my regrets existed only to protect the family.
Reed didn’t understand. “She doesn’t have a son yet.”
Max exhaled a curtain of smoke to hide his realization. I shared his shiver. My father’s grin would desecrate everything pure within his power.
Like Sarah Atwood.
“She will have a son,” my father said. “Her heir will belong to the Bennetts.”
I stilled my movements and wished my heart had ceased with it.
“And one of you will create it.”
The clock on the mantle chimed ten o’clock. Not nearly late enough for talk of this nature.
Max hesitated. He posed the question to me to avoid the wide-eyed insanity of our father.
“You want us to seduce Sarah Atwood?”
No.
Seduction never crossed his mind.
Until Bethany, my father never expressed any sympathy for the family. Their deaths enthralled him, and their misery entertained him. Any misfortune was a cause for celebration.
No one would seduce the girl.
“I will have an heir to Atwood Industries.” My father didn’t lower his voice, despite the evil he summoned. “I’ll control everything and everyone within that family.”
“But—”
“Everything she loves, and everything she has worked so hard to build and maintain, will be lost the instant that girl bears a Bennett for a