Chapter 42
Nathan
"You want to bequeath all your money and assets to your wife?" Arthur frowns at me from under his bushy eyebrows. We’re in his den at his place.
It’s been two days since Hugo woke up in the hospital. He seemed to be absolutely fine and delighted to see Skylar. He was remorseful and told her he was sorry for the temper tantrum he’d thrown. Apparently, he remembered his meltdown.
He said it’d felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, like he was outside his body and watching himself have that blow up.
He knew it was wrong but was unable to stop himself.
He wanted to apologize to those he’d hurt.
He proceeded to apologize to Skylar again, profusely.
Then, he admitted he’d been pretending to swallow his medication for the last few days, instead, spitting them out, which might explain why he lost control.
Then, just like that, he transformed in front of our eyes. His voice shifted, becoming younger, his features softened, and he asked Skylar why she was there. It was like he’d switched off that aware part of his brain and lapsed into someone younger.
Skylar stiffened, but she didn’t show her sadness on her face.
She switched gears and spoke to Hugo like he was a child.
Hugo referred to her as his older sister, and she played along.
He slowly became aware he was in the hospital and wondered what had happened.
By the time she finished explaining, he’d fallen asleep.
I got breakfast, both for her and Hugo, and while they were eating, I left the room to make some calls.
By the time I rejoined them, I’d made the arrangements to move Hugo to an enhanced facility.
While money alone wouldn’t have been enough for such a quick turnaround, it’s amazing what the Davenport name can get you in this city.
My wife called up his existing care home and explained to them that Hugo wouldn’t be returning, and from what she told me, they were relieved. Not the least because there was a waiting list for people to take his place in the state-run place.
I arranged for a team to help with the transition, and as soon as they arrived, we set off toward the new establishment.
There, I left my wife to help Hugo get settled in.
I told her not to worry about the bakery, that along with the girl she’d hired, I’d arranged for a team to help her with interviewing more people, so she could get additional help behind the counter.
When my wife seemed like she was on the verge of tears, I kissed her hard, thus distracting her, then told her I needed to get to the office. Enroute, I’d stopped at Arthur’s place.
"You’re sure about this?" He scrutinizes my features, as if trying to understand my intentions.
"She’s my wife—"
"Of a few days."
"I’ve known her for almost ten years," I point out.
"True." He absent-mindedly pats Tiny’s head. The big dog had walked into the den, and after sniffing me and making sure I scratched him behind his ear, he padded around to sit his butt next to Arthur’s chair and watch our conversation, looking between the two of us like he could understand every word.
"But you haven’t been married for very long. "
"You don’t have to be married for years to know when something is right. I knew she was the one when I set eyes on her, and the feeling has only grown since she became my wife."
Arthur looks at me with something like shock. "Why, my boy, who’d have guessed there’s a romantic underneath that bluster?" His eyes sparkle.
"Don’t say I told you so—"
"I told you so," he says with satisfaction in his eyes.
Tiny adds a woof. I scowl at the big dog, who pants at me.
"Fine, I concede this. Maybe there’s some method to your madness; or maybe, it’s luck that your machinations paid off."
"Does it matter? You found your soul mate."
And it won’t be long before she hates me, which is why it’s important I get this contract drawn up and signed by Arthur. "There’s one more thing."
"Oh?" As if he senses what’s coming, and wants to prepare for it, he reaches into the humidor on his desk and pulls out a cigar.
He offers it to me, and when I refuse, takes his time cutting off the tip, then places it between his lips and lights up.
I shift in my seat as he blows out a puff of smoke, then leans back.
"Let me guess. You want me to make sure I add her name to the list of Davenports who are eligible for the monthly allowance from the company?
This would cement her status as one of the family, and should something happen to you, or god forbid, you decide to sever ties from us, she continues to benefit from the growth of the business. "
I nod. "And if the business fails, for some reason, or is sold off—not that that’s going to happen—"
"Of course not." He puffs out another cloud of smoke.
"—but on the outside possibility that it does, I want your word that she gets the proceeds of whatever settlement is reached."
He lowers his cigar and narrows his gaze. "Why, dear grandson, if I didn’t trust you as much as I do, I’d say you’re not above divesting the company." He smiles, a shrewd look about his eyes. "Not that you’d do that."
Fuck, I never planned on letting my intentions be this transparent.
I must be losing my touch at the negotiating table.
All that experience from bartering with the enemy and persuading them to release hostages has come to naught.
Caught up in the emotion of the situation, with my heart not my own anymore, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
That’s the only explanation for why I’ve given away my intentions to my grandfather.
But no matter. I can salvage the situation and get what I want. Just as long as she’s taken care of.
"What can I say, except that I like to think ahead? Strategy has always been my strong point. It’s why you hired me to run the company."
"My choice was to have you and Edward run it together—"
"But he didn’t want to have anything to do with the leadership role. So, I guess you’re stuck with me."
He strokes his chin. "You want to ensure the love of your life is taken care of, no matter what happens to the business."
"Exactly."
"In fact, you probably had this in mind when you decided to marry her?"
"She is my wife and the sole beneficiary of my will. That should demonstrate how much I care for her. How much I believe in this marriage—"
"Despite your protests to the contrary—"
"—how much I have faith in us surviving the ups and downs of a marital relationship."
"Or perhaps… You’re sure you won’t stick around long enough to see these mythical ups and downs."
I lower my chin. "Why, Arthur, you’ve all but called me a traitor. Someone who’s going to sell out the company, as well as leave his new wife."
"Aren’t you?"
I laugh. "Why would I? I love my wife. The Davenports are my family. Why would I do anything to hurt either of them?"
"But what if you didn’t have a choice?" He smiles sadly.
I frown, taking in the droop of his shoulders. Nope, he has no idea what I’ve done to get this far. And he definitely has no inkling of what I have in mind for the future. I open my mouth to reassure him, when his phone vibrates.
He looks at it and frowns. "Sorry, I need to take this."
He answers the call. There’s a voice on the other side. I can’t make out the words, but whatever that person says leads to the blood draining from his face.
Tiny must sense the change in his mood, for he barks, then jumps up, every muscle in his body rigid.
Arthur lowers his phone, then looks at me with dazed eyes. "He’s coming home."