Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
The last vote is recorded and I stand from my chair. “The vote is carried. Lionel Mardraggon has been removed as chairman of the board. I’ll now ask that you vacate this room immediately.”
My father’s icy eyes pin to me and within those depths, I can see the promise of murder. If I had any doubts about his ability to harm Sylvie, they’re completely demolished now. Shoulders stiff and spine still ramrod straight, my father strides from the boardroom without a backward glance. There’s a collective sigh of relief and the tension seems to dissipate.
“I’d like to make a motion to name Gabe Mardraggon as the new chairman of the board for Mardraggon Enterprises.” This comes from my uncle Terrance and was not unexpected either. He and I have spoken several times over the past two weeks about this well-planned takeover event.
There’s some argument—mostly from Clara—but eventually a vote carries, and I’m installed as the new chairman. We have other matters to attend to, namely filling my position as COO, and that ends up going to Michael. When the meeting concludes, Clara storms out but everyone else is at peace with the decision, even the other two who voted with my dad and Clara. We shake hands and plan another meeting tomorrow to discuss this company’s future.
The room empties and I’m left alone. I walk to the windows and gaze out to the streets of downtown Frankfort, contemplating the monumental task ahead of rebuilding the legacy and the bridge between past and future. I don’t have an ounce of guilt or regret doing that to my father—his betrayal to our family was far worse. The burn of fury that he tried to kill his own granddaughter—Alaine’s daughter and my niece—hasn’t lessened since I found that prescription pad in his office and realized what was going on.
Pulling my phone from my inside jacket pocket, I dial my attorney. “I need an amendment to Sylvie’s trust. Remove the reversion clause in its entirety.”
His hesitation is palpable, even through the phone. “Gabe, are you certain? If Sylvie were to pass, the financial implications…”
Rubbing a hand at the back of my neck, I turn from the windows. “I’m aware, but Sylvie’s sense of security is more important. It’s about doing what’s right, not what’s profitable.”
There’s a very long beat of silence and I’m sure I’ve shocked him. I doubt he’s ever heard a Mardraggon choose to do what was right over profit. Finally, he makes a sound of reluctance but says, “All right, Gabe. I’ll prepare it.”
As I end the call, the weight of my decision settles in. It’s a move away from the Mardraggons’ ruthless legacy.
A shift in my own personal business style.
A step toward something better for Sylvie.
Maybe for all of us.
CHAPTER 7
Kat
“He’s a little antsy,” Trey says, his voice flecked with worry as I stand calmly on the mounting block. My left hand holds Shadow’s reins at the base of his neck, my right hand on his saddle. The big horse tosses his head and shifts his front legs.
Trey stands on the other side of him, one hand on the cheek piece of the bridle.
“He’s fine,” I say, and as if just to be contrary, Shadow’s back end skitters away from the mounting block. I immediately let go of the reins and Trey walks him around in a wide circle twice until he’s calm again.
“Maybe we should try this another day.” It’s both adorable and frustrating that my brother is suggesting such a thing. On one hand, I love the care and concern he has for my safety. On the other hand, I can ride just as well as he can, if not better. His worry is a little offensive.
“We’re doing this today,” I say with a pointed look. “Not only is he ready, but I’m ready and I don’t have a lot of time to spare. I specifically left this hour open in my schedule so I could do this.”
“Fine,” he grumbles and leads Shadow back over to the mounting block.
I take a moment and smooth my palm over the black horse’s neck. I pull a peppermint out of my pocket, unwrap it, and offer it to him. He crunches on it with his tail flicking back and forth. He stands perfectly still so I take the reins and again place my hand on his saddle.
I decide to lean across him, something we’ve been practicing for weeks, but I don’t go gently. I put my full weight over his back and just lie there.
Shadow doesn’t so much as twitch a muscle.
“Maybe he only needed a peppermint,” Trey mutters.
“Okay, let’s do this.” I straighten up, prepared to put my left foot in the stirrup, but I take in the slew of grooms and trainers who’ve come to watch. They’re all standing along the wall just outside the barn office door, quietly talking as they watch me.