Chapter 54
Nathan
"He’s got it wrong. I wasn’t selling off the company; I was saving it."
Knox tosses his head. "You’re going to deny you met with the Whittingtons on their turf yesterday?"
Quentin raised an eyebrow at one of the staff and secured the room for us.
Impressive, considering the club is frequented by those who wield the kind of power that can change the fate of nations.
He wears authority like he was born into it, which he was.
He was a Rear Admiral in the Royal Marines before he took early retirement.
He’s used to commanding men who, while trained to follow orders, did not always do so with readiness, as I know from experience.
"So why did you meet them?" He scowls at me. He’s foregone the chair and is standing at the midpoint of the table between Knox and me. A neutral zone to indicate he’s not taking any sides, but he’s remained standing in order to show he’s the one in charge. Man’s canny as fuck.
"I was staving off a hostile takeover."
Knox snorts. "Fucking lies, he—"
Quentin holds up his hand. Knox seems like he’s going to defy him, but to my surprise, he lapses. Though his gaze promises all kinds of retribution. I hold his gaze and cross my arms over my chest. I’m not backing down, either.
"If you’d bothered to check the movements of stocks before you came, you’d see that our other rivals, the Madisons, began buying up stock from the five percent owned by our non-family, minority shareholders over the last week.
While that, in itself, is not a threat, if they’d succeeded in buying up the entire five percent, it would’ve given them a seat on the board, which would have made things very difficult for us.
It's why I approached the Whittingtons."
"Why would you do that?" Quentin frowns.
"They own five percent of our group.”
“Not possible. Arthur hates them.” Knox scoffs. "There’s a family feud with them."
"—because a Whittington and a Davenport fought over a Madison woman generations ago. They settled it with us selling five percent of the company to the Whittingtons. The Madisons were left out, which is why they’re hungry to get a portion of the company.
Not that selling a stake in the company to the Whittingtons back then helped,” I widen my stance.
“The hate between the Davenports and the Whittingtons never died down.
All of this is, of course, a well-kept company secret. Until now."
"The fuck?" Knox narrows his gaze on me.
"How do you know this?" There’s an almost admiring note in Quentin’s voice.
"Research into family history, one of my favorite pastimes.”
"You mean, you had an investigator look into it?" He smirks.
When I don’t reply, Knox jumps up and slams both of his hands on the table. A glass of water tips over, rolls to the edge, then thumps against the carpeted floor. Not one of the three of us react.
"You didn’t think I’d join the company, no matter that you’re blood family, without due diligence, did you?" I drawl.
His nostrils flare.
"It’s what anyone would do in his position," Quentin murmurs.
"Is that what you did?" Knox rounds on him. "Did you investigate us before you accepted Arthur’s offer of becoming the CEO of the info-communication division?"
Quentin smiles slowly. "I didn’t need to; I already knew Arthur couldn’t be trusted. But did I ask to look at the books of the info-comm companies before I accepted the proposal? You bet I did."
"Motherfucker," he growls.
"Now that we have that out of the way"—Quentin turns to me—"let me get this right. You found out the Madisons were buying up shares in the Davenport Group, so you approached the Whittingtons?”
“I sold them five percent of my shares.” When I agreed to take over as interim CEO of the group, Arthur transferred nine percent of his shares to me, bringing down his stake to forty-two percent. It made me the second largest shareholder in the group, after him.
“You what?” Knox explodes.
“As of this morning, the Whittington Group owns ten percent of the Davenport Group, giving us the capital to buy back the Madisons’ shares.”
“The Madisons sold back the shares?” Knox asks in a disbelieving voice.
“They did when I revealed a family secret they weren’t keen on being made public.”
Quentin smirks. “You blackmailed them?”
“I prefer to think of it as light coercion,” I drawl.
Knox sets his jaw. “And the secret—”
“Is between me and them. Suffice to say this ensures they’ll never attempt such a tactic again. Once the transaction is complete, my share will be back at nine percent, and none of your holdings will be impacted.”
"Except, we’ll be in bed with our worst enemies." Knox drags his hand through his hair. “Fucking hell.”
"Should prove interesting, for sure." I smirk.
The sound of clapping reaches us. All three of us turn to the doorway of the room to find Arthur standing there. He walks into the room, Tiny at his heels. The mutt pads over to butt my side, waits for me to pet him, then walks over to Knox.
"Good boy.” He tugs at Tiny’s ears.
The Great Dane makes a rumbling noise at the back of his throat.
He brushes his head against Knox’s thigh, then heads to Quentin.
He pants up at the man, his tongue lolling.
Quentin quirks his lips and scratches him under his chin.
Tiny’s smile seems to grow wider. He wags his flagstaff-like tail, barks a soft woof, then circles around back to where Arthur has taken up position on the opposite side of Quentin.
Arthur lowers his bulk into the chair and sighs.
Man’s looking every one of his eighty-two years today.
There are shadows under his eyes, and his cheekbones are pronounced.
However, when he places his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers together, his hands are steady.
He glances at Knox, then Quentin, before turning to me. "You did well."
I blink. "I did?" I ask, caution in my tone.
"What are you saying?" Knox bursts out. "He’s ensured we’re joined at the hip with those Whittingtons."
Arthur pays him no heed. "You prevented the Madisons from buying up shares in our company, didn’t you?" He addresses his question to me.
I nod slowly.
"Then you did the right thing."
"Even though it means that the Whittingtons now have access to all our accounts and our secrets. Have you forgotten how they sabotaged our entry into the Asian market?" Knox argues.
"And blocked us when we tried to launch our new media company; I’m aware," Arthur replies without taking his gaze from my face.
"Don’t forget, there’s a Whittington in the position of Prime Minister of the country," I prod.
"You’re talking about Hunter Whittington?" Knox frowns.
"He’s Toren Whittington’s cousin. Don’t believe the two men see eye-to-eye on much, but they’re family. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt to have the Whittington surname opening even more doors," Quentin murmurs.
Arthur leans back in his chair. "Not that I’m happy with the Whittingtons acquiring additional stake in my company."
"You still own fifty-one percent of the shares,” I point out.
“You mean you own fifty-one percent of the shares.”
“I do?” I ask, a cautious note in my voice.
“As of this moment, since I confirmed you as group CEO. With it, I am transferring thirty-five percent of my stake to you. You’re the majority shareholder now." Arthur’s smile is grim.
"You still hold seven percent in the group, second only to the Whittingtons. And you’re Chairman; you can veto any decision you don’t agree with."
"Not when it’s, clearly, in the best interests of the company. I will not be seen as bringing my emotions into play when it comes to making the right decision." He sets his jaw.
I stroke my chin. Interesting. Hadn’t expected Arthur to play along with me. I hadn’t expected him to take the news of sharing interest with the Whittingtons so calmly.
Quentin looks between us. "Everything okay?" he murmurs.
"Why wouldn’t it be?" Knox frowns.
"Because I sense there’s something unsaid here?" Quentin narrows his gaze on me. "What is it, Nate? What are you not saying?"
Silence descends. The tension in the room feels like the approach of a thunderstorm.
Heavy, silent, but with that growing static that sets my teeth on edge and prickles the hair on my forearms taut with urgency.
A heavy weight pushes down on my chest. The tension in the room is so evident, even Knox straightens. "Arthur? Gramps? What’s happening?"
"Ask your half-brother," he murmurs.
Half-brother, huh? Arthur’s never treated me like anything less than family before. He’s never referred to me as half-anything. I place the tips of my fingers together, making myself comfortable in my chair.
"Nate?" Knox’s gaze is piercing across the space. "What have you done?"
"You sure you want to know?" I half smile, still holding Arthur’s gaze. A bead of sweat slides down my spine, but I ignore it.
"Of-fucking-course, I do. Will you come out and tell us already?"
I turn to Knox. "I’m appointing you as the deputy CEO."
Knox blinks, then barks out a laugh. "Deputy CEO."
"Gives you all the powers of a CEO—you can step in when I’m not around. And you can bet I’ll take advantage of that, considering I want to spend more time with my wife."
Knox’s frown deepens. He opens and shuts his mouth, then shakes his head. "The fuck? I don’t think I trust why you’re doing this."
"Does it matter?" I half smile. "It puts you in the driver’s seat. Isn’t that what you want? Also"—I turn to Quentin—"in addition to taking over as the CEO of the info-comms division, I’d like to appoint you as Group Chief Operating Officer."
He scans my features. "That’s a big responsibility."
"It is."
"I’ve yet to acclimate to my existing role."
"I’m sure you can manage."
He nods slowly. "Can I think about this and give you my answer later?"
"Of course." I look around the table. "If that will be all…" I rise to my feet.
"Sit down," Arthur snaps.
Fucking hell, and I thought I’d pulled it off. I thought I’d made it through this meeting without having to be interrogated by Gramps, but apparently not.
"I need to speak with Nathan"—he sets his jaw—"alone."
Both Quentin and Knox hesitate. Then Quentin spins around on his heels and walks out, followed by Knox. The door snicks shut. Silence descends. Tiny sneezes. It seems to shake Arthur out of his reverie.
He glances away and sighs. "Were you going to tell me at all?" he finally asks.
"That I had the option of selling out my shares to the Madisons, which would have resulted in them increasing their stake in our company? That I could have then coerced your grandsons into parting with their shares for the right amount, setting things up for a takeover?”
Arthur scowls. “They’d have never agreed to that.”
“Considering how pissed off they are at you, and for a generous asking price—”
A shadow crosses Arthur’s gaze. "But you didn’t go through with the plan."
“I didn’t.”
A vein pops at his temple. "What stopped you? And don’t tell me it’s because you had an attack of conscience at the last moment."
“And if I said I did?”
Arthur’s features grow more pinched. "Then I wouldn’t believe you."
I hold his gaze for a second longer, then sigh. "You’re right. It wasn’t an attack of conscience. I did not sell out because I want to be the kind of man my wife is proud to be married to."
Surprise flits across his features, then a kind of satisfaction, before he masks it. I bet the old man is thinking he was right in making me marry. And I can’t fault him.
"You wanted her to be proud of you," he says slowly.
"I did."
He lowers his chin to his chest. "And how does that make you feel?"
"Proud as hell and also, shit," I confess.
"Because you haven’t gotten your revenge for how we treated your mother?”
It’s my turn to be surprised, but I keep the emotion off of my features.
At least, I hope I do. Since I met my wife, it’s become increasingly difficult to retreat to that hardened part of me where I can hide behind the barriers I put up against the world.
She’s brought my emotions to the surface, and now, there’s no going back to the unfeeling, dispassionate person whose focus was to avenge the wrongs done to my mother.
There’s no going back to the dumbass who denied his feelings for his best friend’s little sister.
There’s no going back to staying detached from how I’d be hurting my own flesh and blood if I went through with the plan of selling out to the Madisons, then watched as they broke up the company Arthur built and sold it off for parts.
Pain laces Arthur’s expression. The shadows from under his eyes seem to creep into his gaze, so when he looks at me, there’s remorse etched into his features.
"I don’t blame you for wanting vengeance on your father’s family.
If I were in your shoes, I’d have wanted to do the same thing.
Still, you shouldn’t blame my wife for buying off your mother.
Times were different then. She wanted to protect her family from what she saw as scandal that would have touched every part of our lives. "
"So, she sacrificed my mother instead."
"She ensured the two of you would never lack for any creature comforts."
"Just no emotional support from the Davenports. She made it clear she didn’t want me to ever know my father. And because she moved away from her family and friends, my mother found herself isolated.”
"She was wrong in that." Arthur smiles sadly, the expression tinged with tiredness. "Forgive your grandmother."
"I can’t forget what she did, but I’m ready to forgive and move on, thanks to my wife."
Relief floods his features. "And are you ready to forgive yourself?"