Chapter Two
Christian
“ W hy didn’t you tell me?” I say as soon as Dad and I step into his office.
Releasing a long-suffering sigh, as is usual when he’s forced to provide me an explanation, he drops into the chair behind his massive desk. “I just did.”
Right. Along with everyone else.
“You aren’t the one in charge here, Christian,” he adds. “Not yet.”
I cock my head, giving him that look I know he despises. “True enough. And the hold up on that is…what exactly?”
It’s been five grueling years of training and learning everything I could to take over the company. Five years of dedicating my life to the people here, to bettering this workplace, to upholding my grandfather’s legacy. In the beginning, Dad promised to hand it over when I turned thirty. Yet the closer we come to that milestone, the further away the position of CEO feels. I’m not sure what to make of it, but it feels like the older Dad gets, the tighter he seems to hang on.
“The hold up, Christian,” he says with a bitter edge to his voice, “is that there is more to being CEO than having a good work ethic. More you’ve yet to prove to me.”
Hurt, sharp and unforgiving, lances through me. What more could I possibly have to prove to him? I’ve invested more time and energy into this place than even he did at my age. Grandfather told me as much.
“Is that so?” I release a sarcastic laugh. “Then by all means, leave the company to Nova. I’m sure she’ll hop on the first plane home from Paris to—”
He slams a palm onto the solid surface of his desk. “This isn’t about your sister!” Each muscle in his jaw seems to strain with his irritation. Sweeping a hand through his silver hair, he sighs. The next time he speaks, his voice is controlled, level. “If you think I’m just going to hand this company over to a nearly thirty-year-old man who wouldn’t know commitment if it bit him in the face, you’re sorely mistaken.”
It takes every bit of my self-control not to lash out at his bold insult. What is commitment if not dedicating my life to furthering this family’s legacy? If anyone in this room doesn’t understand commitment, loyalty , it’s him. But I already know I won’t win Dad’s favor by spewing back the vitriol he so easily throws at me. So I take a deep breath. Release it. Focus on proving my merits.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” I say with a level of calm I’m nowhere near feeling. “My commitment to this company is unparalleled. I’ve taken every course, earned every degree imaginable to be able to run this company well. I’ve worked by your side for years, doing anything you’ve asked, to prove to you—to this company—that I have what it takes to be the CEO.” I pause for a beat, remembering Grandfather’s admonitions. “I’ve formed connections with our employees, I’ve strived to give them purpose and inspire their creativity. I’ve upheld Grandfather’s ideals.”
Dad stiffens, his face contorting in a wince as he interlocks his fingers over his desk. “Running a company is more than being good with numbers, Christian. It’s more than earning a degree. It’s even more than perfecting your interpersonal skills.”
My jaw works back and forth, a motion I can tell he doesn’t miss by what he says next.
“Son. I care for you more than I care for this company.”
At that blatant lie, I meet his eyes. “If that’s true, why won’t you allow me to succeed?”
“I would have you succeed in life . The position of CEO is a prize, there’s no doubt about that, but for you to take on that role, I need to know that you’re willing to do what it takes, what I have done, to ensure that this company lives on throughout the future generations of our family.”
I so badly want to roll my eyes. This is a marketing firm, not the mafia. Besides, he doesn’t need to convince me of my duty to our family name. I have no intention of letting Grandfather down, not if I can help it.
“I am…not well.” Dad’s eyes drop to the desk in front of him in an unusual show of vulnerability. That and his ominous tone give me pause.
“What do you mean?” So many possibilities run through my mind it’s impossible to pick just one.
“I have kidney disease.”
My breathing stutters and I stiffen. “How bad is it?”
Dad releases a breathy, rattling laugh. “Bad enough that the doctors are recommending a kidney transplant.”
“Does Mom know? Nova?”
His lips press together until they turn white. “Your mother didn’t. Not at first. It was manageable for a while. Nothing to be overly concerned about, but…the symptoms that have cropped up with its progression have forced me to tell her. Your sister, however, does not know.”
Every part of me wants to chew him out for not having the decency to share this news sooner, but a reaction like that would only feed into his already low opinion of me. Instead, I say, “I’m sorry, Dad.” Genuine concern for his well-being wells within me. But also for his precious company. If he’s known this, why hasn’t he shifted more of his responsibilities to me? Does he think me that incapable after all I’ve done to prove otherwise?
“I feel like this is all the more reason to transition me to the role of CEO as soon as possible,” I say. “If you need rest, you should take it. Allow someone younger, someone you have the power to influence, be the driving force behind the firm.” Before you’re too sick to have a say in what goes on, I think. If it’s control over the company he wants, this is the best way to keep it—by using me as his puppet. Not my favorite reality, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’s held the strings.
“Christian.” Sympathy and something more make Dad’s voice quiver as we lock eyes. “How is Stefany?”
I rear my head back, confused by his swift subject change. “Stefany? As in…Stefany, my ex ?”
He bobs his head in one slow, decisive nod. “I thought after you two had some time apart to reevaluate things, you’d both come to the right conclusion.”
“Which is?” I cock an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Which is that an expedient marriage would benefit you both.” Dad must notice my apparent shock because he rushes to say, “Not only would you gain the image of stability as the leader of this company, but you’d also have the promise of future heirs—a way to pass our legacy on.”
I hold up a hand to stop him. “I’m sorry, what? Did you seriously just reduce a marriage to a stable image and procreating?”
His bushy brows lower over his light blue eyes. “I’m not suggesting you enter into a marriage with someone you have no fondness for. All I’m saying is that a marital union has many benefits for you both. You are seeking to guide this company into the future as its CEO, but that cannot be done unless you’ve taken the proper steps to ensure its success.”
I scoff. “And marriage is the way to do that?”
“According to your grandfather, yes.”
“According to Grandfather…” I take a second to consider what he’s saying. “Grandfather loved people more than he loved turning a profit. He knew that the key to good business lives in the building of relationships.” My throat tightens as memories of him investing so many hours of his life into molding the man I am today fill my mind. “He prized authenticity. Embodied it.”
Dad shifts in his seat but keeps his attention trained on me. “He also took steps to ensure that the company he poured his life into would only be turned over to a family man. Someone committed to building not just the company but the future generations of this family.” Dad clears his throat. “I’m sure you’ve heard of inheritance contracts.”
I shake my head. “Yes, but—”
“I’m afraid that to inherit the company and claim the position of CEO, you must fulfill the obligations outlined in the contract your grandfather had made.”
“But what does marriage—” My mind catches up, and it feels as if time itself comes to a halt. Shock like I’ve never known ripples throughout my being. “Are you saying that you only married mom to inherit the company?”
In a sure sign of exasperation, he removes his glasses and runs a hand down his face. “I loved your mother before I proposed to her.”
My mouth drops open. “Why do I feel like there’s a big but at the end of that sentence?!”
Dad stares back at me, weariness leaking into his expression. “I loved your mother,” he says firmly. “But after your grandfather gave me an ultimatum, I decided to make the best choice for the company—which just so happened to be the right choice for me as well. I proposed to your mother, and she said yes.”
Dread settles low in my gut at the way he says ultimatum . Is that what’s happening right now? Is he about to spring some insane demand on me before I can acquire the role he’s prepped me for my whole life?
“I can’t believe this,” I say, disappointment roiling through me. How could the grandfather I loved so deeply impose something so archaic onto his own son? How could Dad go along with it? “You only married mom to further your career?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It is, though,” I challenge. “You said you proposed after your dad—” I huff a bitter laugh. “Is that what you’re doing? Pressuring me into proposing marriage to Stefany as if it’s some cold, soulless business transaction?”
Dad’s reprimanding glare says it all. “You would be lucky to have a wife as beautiful and distinguished as Stefany.”
“Yeah? And what would be in it for her, Dad?” I lean forward, gripping the edge of his desk. “What would I even say to a woman I haven’t spoken to in three months? Hey, Stef, it’s me. I know we broke things off a while ago because we both wanted different things, but what do you say we get married and have kids so my dad can die happy ?”
“Christian—”
I ignore the warning in his voice. “And when she looks at me like I’m a nutcase, I’ll just explain the many benefits she’ll receive as my wife. Oh wait , you have yet to explain those to me .”
“That’s enough!” Dad’s face turns red with barely contained rage. “How dare you mock something so important.”
“How dare you insinuate that I need to get married to run this company!” My breathing quickens and my chest expands with each ragged breath. He’s done many things to anger me before, but this one far surpasses the others.
“You’ve mistaken me entirely,” Dad says, working to keep his voice level. “There is no insinuation. There is only this.” As if we’re working out some business deal, he reaches into his desk’s bottom right drawer and pulls out what I immediately recognize as a contract. He passes it across the table with the kind of deadly calm he’s used for years on competitors, on clients he’s determined to land. As I quickly scan the document, a feeling of helplessness overwhelms me.
At which time business shall demand, the company’s assets and the role of CEO will only be acquired by a married man of good standing, who in the course of five years commits to procuring an heir for which the company may be passed on to. Should the applicant not agree to these requirements before his thirtieth birthday, another shall be chosen…
My mind whirls. Dad married mom when he was thirty.
“Is this some sort of joke?” I toss the contract onto his desk, then cross my arms over my chest. “No one in their right mind would sign this.”
Dad bristles, visibly stiffening. His eyes never leave mine. “I don’t joke about business, son.”
All traces of snarky retorts or sarcastic quips leave my mind. I’m at a complete loss for words. It’s as if everything I believed my entire life has been a lie—a farce put on by excellent actors. Now the role is being passed onto me, and if I refuse the director’s ridiculous requirements, I’ll be passed over, never given the chance to audition again.
“If you refuse to abide by the terms my father set forth,” Dad continues, “you will not be considered for the CEO position. We’d be forced to look elsewhere for someone who fits those parameters.” He pauses, then releases a strained breath. “And you’d be left without an inheritance.”
Panic. Anger. Resentment. Dread. Emotions burn through me faster than I can quell them.
Another scoff bursts through my lips. “You’d hire someone else? Someone outside of our family? Then give it all away to them?”
Dad splays his hands before clasping them together again. “That's not what I want to do, Christian. It’s why I’m telling you all this now, well before your birthday. My illness has forced me to accept the reality of things. And the reality is...I can’t continue as CEO. I need you to step into that role before you turn thirty.”
“I think you mean to say jump through hoops to fill that role.” Bitterness lodges like a thick layer of sediment in my stomach. “I won’t get married just because you’re telling me to. I wouldn’t do that to a woman, and I won’t do it to myself.”
“Then don’t,” he says, as if he didn’t just shove a contract in my face that states I need to do just that if I want the position I’ve worked my whole life for. “Reconnect with Stefany. Make her see what she’s been missing.” A slow smile starts on his weathered face. “It shouldn’t be all that hard, considering her father has told me she’s asked about you.”
Well, at least I know Dad’s still well enough to go golfing with Mr. Greggario when the mood strikes.
“You make it sound like I would actually want to do that,” I note.
“On the contrary. I’m giving you the best and easiest route to obtain the thing you want most .”
I chew on his words until they burn like ash. “I don’t love her,” I say with finality.
Dad’s tone turns distant, almost robotic. “You may not be in love with Stefany in a romantic sense of the word, but that doesn’t mean you don’t hold affection for her. Romance fades, Christian. But contracts, lucrative partnerships, those live on for generations. Besides, I know you care for the girl.”
“Caring is different,” I retort. “I care for the homeless man I pass on the street and try to hand cash to every day, but that doesn’t mean I want him living in my apartment.”
Dad sighs. “You never fail with the crude illustrations, do you?”
“I just think you’re simplifying a complex issue.”
“What’s complex about doing what one needs to do in order to further their life? Their career?”
Realizing I won’t get anywhere with him on the subject of love, I decide to appeal to logic. “Do you really believe that marriage should be a prerequisite for taking over the company? Do you genuinely feel that it’s made you a better CEO?”
“I have no doubt that it has.”
“How?” I push out of the chair and run my hands through my hair, losing my patience. “ How has it helped you run this company?”
Too calmly, he states, “It’s allowed me to understand true commitment. Sacrifice. Even strategy.”
“And being a father?” I ask almost as a dare. “Has that helped you as CEO?”
He pauses and looks toward the large open window. “I never loved your mother as much as I did once you came into the world.” An unexpected tinge of regret passes over his features before he clears his throat. “Fatherhood has given me a reason to be the best CEO I could be. To offer you a company that’s thriving. If I hadn’t signed this contract as a thirty-year-old man, I may never have settled down and started a family. It wasn’t something I wanted at the time.”
“Guess that explains all the nights you spent in the city while Mom, Nova, and I lived in Rocosa like the afterthoughts we were.”
“That’s enough!” he bellows, rising to his feet. “You may mock me, you may even mock this business, but you will not mock my wife or the love I have for my family.”
“Fine.” I raise my hands in defeat. “It’s obvious I can’t talk you out of this idiocy.”
“Christian—”
“No, Dad, I get it. As usual, you’ve chosen the company over me.” Without another word, I march toward the door.
“Christian!”
With one hand on the doorknob, I stop, reluctance pulsing through me. “What?”
“Please don’t tell your sister. About the illness.” His hard swallow can be heard from across the room. “There will be time for that later.”
More bitterness and anger slice my heart open as I glance back at him. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. She’s not returning my calls.”
He nods before sliding back down into the chair. “You have a month to either accept or reject this contract.” Pointing to the piece of paper from my nightmares, he pierces me with a stern look. “Until then, you will be here, working as usual. Do I make myself clear?”
My jaw clenches hard enough to cause me physical pain before I swing open the door and let it slam closed behind me. I don’t even give him the satisfaction of a response.