Play the game or you’re out.

  “I’m quick to pull the trigger on things I don’t like. Take that warning however you see fit,” he says.

  “I propose that you take your finger off the trigger and wait until you officially own the company to make any changes,” I say, pushing for a fight.

  “Don’t you remember the other night? I thought we already established that I don’t care what people think. That still stands. And as for what I do or don’t do, that’s my prerogative.” He challenges me with his stare, daring me to push harder. “Changes will start promptly.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” I say to everyone in the room.

  “You’re free to leave so you don’t have to watch, then.” When I don’t move, he turns his attention to the room. “As I was saying, it will be business as usual for all outside of this room. Seamless. That’s how I expect this transition to be.”

  I glare at my brother as Holden drones on about things I currently don’t care about. Expectations. New agendas. Site visits. One-on-one meetings with him so he can figure what “fat to cut.”

  This has to be a dream. Or a nightmare. I will Rhett to meet my eyes. For Chad to do the same.

  But both are too chickenshit to face me.

  “Seamless,” Rhett says, standing to assert authority over the company he essentially just gave away. “I hope now that you’ve all heard Mr. Knight’s plans, it’s helped to assuage any fears you might have had. While Knight Holdings will own the majority stake in TinSpirits and Mr. Knight here will be integral in making some important changes, I remain the CEO. Chad the COO. Everything will be the same but different.” He smiles to reinforce the words he just spoke. “We’ll be a better company because of this welcome partnership.”

  A man buying the majority of our company is not a partnership. It’s a takeover. Plain and simple, and my brother’s naive if he thinks that “hostile” and “takeover” don’t go hand in hand.

  Everyone starts shuffling their papers and laptops click closed as our upper management tries to come to terms with what just happened. No doubt there will be a lot of texting from office to office.

  “I need a minute alone with Mr. Knight,” I say.

  “Wanting to lavish the praise so soon?” Holden quirks an eyebrow.

  “I’ll stay,” Rhett says.

  “You’ll go,” Holden says without any room for interpretation. He’s in charge now regardless of the title or company attached to my brother’s last name.

  Rhett looks at Holden and then at me. Does he really think I’ll have his back right now after he just stabbed the knife in mine?

  More furtive glances are given as the remainder of the people leave the room. Their uneasiness and anxiety permeate the air as they do. Rhett moves cautiously, stopping at the door and hesitating a moment, before walking through and shutting it.

  The minute the door is closed, I walk around the table and stand right in front of Holden.

  “So this was your game all along? Weasel your way into a Westmore function. Make yourself seen, your name known … and then get information out of me?”

  “Weasel? I wouldn’t say it was that difficult.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine?”

  “You could have told me why you were there.”

  “And you could’ve kept your mouth shut. Or left me alone with my scotch on the balcony like I asked you to numerous times. You stayed. You talked. You shared.” He shrugs with indifference. “How was I to know that a VP of the company I was looking to buy was going to be at the auction? I’m good, Rowan, but I’m not that good.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “Believe what you want.”

  I hate him. I hate this good-looking prick that apparently blew so much smoke up Rhett’s ass he couldn’t see through the haze.

  But I fucking can.

  “Why didn’t you tell me your intentions?”

  “And ruin the surprise?” He chuckles. “I rather enjoyed seeing your reaction. A bit dramatic but memorable nonetheless.”

  “You enjoy this, don’t you? The flair. The making an entrance. The shock value.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Sunshine. The outcome would have been the same regardless of if we’d met or not. The only difference is I walked into this knowing you are not particularly fond of your brother.”

  There’s a warning somewhere in his statement, but I can’t quite figure out what it is in the moment because my mind is clouded knowing that he’s right. One hundred percent right.

  “Why us? Why TinSpirits?”

  Holden purses his lips, and our stares hold as he leans back in his chair. “For one, their spokesperson is irresistible.” The muscle pulses in his jaw but his eyes wait for a reaction from me that I don’t give. “And two, I like learning new things. I like turning things upside down and challenging myself to put them back together while improving them.”

  “We make alcohol.”

  “I’m more than aware.”

  “Signature spirits, canned cocktails, microbrews. Do you have any experience in our industry?”

  “I don’t need to know your industry to be successful.”

  “So, what? You think you can walk in here with your good looks and blank checkbook and things will happen?”

  “Ah, she does think I’m good-looking.” His smile deepens. “Thank you. I thought your hatred for me might have dulled my shine. Good to see it hasn’t. For the record, failure is never an option in my ventures. Especially this one.”

  The way he says that phrase, so resolute, so final, gives me pause. “What’s your end game?” I cut to the chase.

  A ghost of a smile flickers on his lips, almost as if I’m a mouse and he’s the cat having fun batting at me, but he doesn’t answer.

  If I was uneasy before, I’m even more so now.

  “Look. I’ve dreamed of running it since I was a child, and I’m not letting you take that from me.”

  His sigh is condescending at best, the chuckle that follows even more so. “I admire a woman who knows what she wants … but this is my dream too, Miss Rothschild. One I’ve waited way too long to have. And nothing—nothing—will get in my way of having it.”

  His cryptic response has me taking a step closer. “I’ll get in your way, and I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

  “I think you’re forgetting that we’re on the same team here.”

  I snort and take a few steps back, our eyes still locked on each other’s before I turn on my heel.

  “I think what you meant to say was ‘thank you,’” he says at my back.

  I turn to face him. “Come again?”

  “Thank you. I believe those were the words waiting to come off your tongue. Thank you for saving my family’s company. Thank you for making sure it doesn’t devalue to nothing. Thank you for not firing the current management on the spot like they deserve to be.”

  “I don’t need saving. Not by you. Not by anyone.”

  “What? You were going to single-handedly come in and turn things around yourself when it’s clear the golden boy disregards you and your intelligence?”

  His words sting but I take the hit on the chin. “Yes. I had a plan. A proposal drawn up. I was possibly coming into some money. Had planned to buy out—”

  “Possibly? A trust fund, I presume, then? How … Westmore elite of you.”

  I work a swallow down my throat as I force myself to think before I speak. But screw decorum. Screw manners. Screw him.

  “You get off on this, don’t you?”

  His eyes scrape up and down my body, doing way more than just unnerving me. “Oh, Sunshine, you have no idea.” And when I stalk out of the conference room, ire adding the extra sway to my hips, the chuckle he emits carries down the hall after me.

  SIX

  Rowan

  “Row. Wait up!”

  The sound of Chad’s voice doesn’t cause a break in my stride as I make my way down the empty hallway. It seems everyone who was in the meeting got out of here in a hurry. “Go away,” I say over my shoulder.

  I need fresh air. I need a second so my skin doesn’t feel like it’s suffocating me. I need the silence of being locked in my car so I can sit and think and process and … scream at the top of my lungs if I want.

  “Please. Let me explain,” he huffs as he jogs to catch up and then falls in step beside me.

  “Being blindsided is pretty self-explanatory if you ask me.”

  He reaches out to grab my arm to stop me, and it takes everything I have not to yank it away and plow it into his stomach.

  “Rhett made me promise to keep this under wraps.” His eyes search mine. “He’s the top dog here. You know that. If I had told you, you would have marched right in there and blasted him, ruined the deal … sent all the employees running scared.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “C’mon. I know you, Rowan. Are you telling me I’m wrong?” He lifts his brows, and I can’t deny that he’s right.

  “I had a right to know, Chad.”

  He hangs his head for a beat and nods. “You did. Rhett’s made a mess out of this place and when Holden approached us a few weeks back, it was like his offer was hand-tailored to what we needed. Capital. Retention of operating control. His experience navigating various marketplaces.”

  “A few weeks back? Like how far back?”

  “Through lawyers, like six weeks. In person, a few days after the auction. That’s when he came at us, hard, and after seeing how much he spent on the painting, Rhett knew Knight had money to burn.”

  It was me. I gave him all he needed to know. I told him where the weak spot was, and he exploited it.

  “What is it?” Chad asks—he must see the guilt on my face. “What are you not telling me?”

  “Nothing.” I roll my shoulders and draw in a deep breath. “You vetted all this experience he supposedly has?”

  His nod followed by a quick swallow doesn’t exactly give me confidence in his response. “Self-made multimillionaire. Sold his software company years ago and has since used those profits to dabble in buying fledgling companies.”

  “Dabble? Because that sounds convincing.”

  “Look. Rhett was hell-bent on making this deal,” he whispers and looks around as if to make sure no one can hear him.

  “Just because one of Rhett’s ideas panned out in the past doesn’t mean they all will,” I say, knowing how ridiculous that sounds when talking about the man who convinced our dad to transition TinSpirits from solely making signature spirits five years ago to making canned mixed cocktails.

  It’s what gave this company new life. Opened it up to a different, younger demographic when ours was mostly aging, and what earned him the status of golden child.

  Not that he needed any help since he’s the only male grandchild in the Rothschild family. That alone cemented him into anointed status.

  “He wants the deal, Row. I don’t know what to tell you.” He scrubs a hand through his normally perfectly styled hair. Right now it’s sticking up at all ends and is a mess. Clearly this whole thing has been hard on him too. “We’ve done nothing but weigh the pros and cons ad nauseum, and he thinks it makes the most sense for your family legacy, for the company’s value, for everyone employed here, to take the deal.”

  “He thinks. Yes. Of course. But what about what I think? About what you think?” I shake my head in frustration. I hear what he’s saying but also reject the idea because we wouldn’t be in this position in the first place if Rhett hadn’t put us here. “This is bullshit, and you know it.”

  “I think we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place and Knight’s offer is a lifeline. The board clearly agrees.”

  “Fuck the board,” I state.

  “I don’t think that’s really an option,” he jokes, but it falls flat.

  I unclench my jaw and try to sort through my cluttered thoughts. How can I stop this? How can I turn this around? How can I sabotage Holden’s due diligence so he walks away? How can I salvage what I’ve never gotten the chance to save and then run?

  Sure, Chad and Rhett are considered part of the good ol’ boys club—the blindside only served to prove that—but I know them. I can read them … or at least I thought I could. But bringing in somebody new, somebody like Holden Knight? That’s a whole different ball game.

  It’s better to deal with the devil you know.

  “We don’t have to see this through,” I say. “We can void the letter of intent somehow. I’m sure our lawyers would know how to do this. Some legal technicality that Knight overlooked. Bring it to your uncle Henry. Your cousins. You have a family full of fucking lawyers. One of them should be able to tell you how to get out of this or how to bend the rules just enough that we can’t get in trouble.”

  “That’s a big ask, Row.”

  “If Rhett asked, you’d do it, though, wouldn’t you?” I hate the pleading in my tone. The weakness it implies when I need to be anything but if I have a chance at fighting this. “If we can break this intent, then we can try and raise the capital ourselves. I’ve been looking into the benefits of selling off one of our brands. If we did that, we’d be able to keep the company as is while earning enough from the sale to keep moving forward. That would allow the three of us combined to retain the majority ownership. Keep it in the family.”

  There’s a flicker in his eyes. A spark. And I’ve known him long enough to sense the idea intrigues him.

  “Things are more complicated than that,” he says.

  “How? It’s a matter of—”

  “I hear what you’re saying but that’s a huge task to accomplish in a short amount of time.”

  “Who says there’s a time limit? So long as we can tread water until we figure it out, we’ll be okay.”

  “We’ve been treading water for longer than you know. We need capital to stay afloat. We—”

  “But don’t we owe it to ourselves to try?”

  “You know nothing about doing something like this, Row. The minute you start asking, people will start talking. The wrong kind of talk could yank this deal out from under us before it’s finalized.”

  “Great. Even better. If the deal is going to fail on rumors alone then it isn’t a very good deal to begin with. Problem solved.”

  Chad hangs his head for a beat and draws in a deep breath. “This isn’t just a deal you’re trying to sabotage. It’s the trust of the board too. The last thing you want to do is piss off everyone who’s supposed to be in your corner.”

  I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and give a curt nod. He’s right, but this isn’t the time or place to hash out something like this. It’s not even a discussion I should be having until I can gain my bearings after everything that has just been dumped on me.

  There has to be a way to stop this.

  “You forget. You were supposed to be in my corner too.” I shake my head and then walk away.

  “Row. Wait!”

  I don’t wait. Screw these men who think they can walk all over me.

  I have to find a way to fix this. To stop this. To make TinSpirits mine.

  If Holden thinks I’m going to let him control my destiny, he has another think coming.

  What I’d give to tell them all to fuck off and walk out the door right now.

  What I’d give to leave so they could see how valuable I really am.

  But I can’t.

  My heart sinks, threatening to break as the magnitude of this impossible situation weighs on me.

  I blink back another shot of tears.

  Gran, I promised you that I wouldn’t let him throw this company away. I promised and I intend to do anything and everything I can to keep it.

  SEVEN

  Holden

  She’s a striking figure. Tall and statuesque. Confident and defiant. Even now, even after finding out about my purchase, she still carries that same posture as she walks toward her car.

  She was a good choice for the face of TinSpirits.

  The blond version of her anyway. I glance to the left of the window, where a framed poster of a marketing campaign rests against the wall. It’s the profile of her face. Her red lips twisted into the slightest of smirks as they toy with a straw between them. The signature white can of TinSpirits in her hand. Her green eyes peering sideways at the camera as if to say, You know you want to join me.

  Then there are the ads for the signature brands of alcohol. The curves of her body beside a bottle of dark amber. Both shadowed. Both backlit. Both sensual.

  And now she, the face of the company, walks all alone in the mostly empty parking lot toward what I can assume is her ride. Her head is still held high despite the crushing blow I dealt her a bit ago.

  I study her from the wall of windows on the sixth floor and almost feel bad for her.

  Almost.

  But just like I was collateral damage all those years ago, she has the same fate now.

  She reaches her car and looks back toward the building, almost as if she knows I’m standing here watching her. Judging her. Looking for hints of the pain I know she’s feeling inside to cross her pretty face.

  I smirk.

  If she thinks this is hard to process, she doesn’t know what’s about to hit her.

  Just wait, Sunshine. I’m not done yet.

  I slip a hand in my pocket and move out of the conference room. Time to implement round two of “commands and controls” for the day.

  God, this feels better than I imagined it would.

  The hallway is quiet, most of the staff having gone for the day. The door to the corner executive office is open.

  Rhett, the poor excuse for a CEO, has his head down as he searches for something in his desk. Chad, his spineless sidekick, sits in front of the desk, foot resting on his knee, phone in his hand, oblivious to the storm swirling around him.

  “Leave your key to your office when you go,” I say from the doorway.

  Both heads whip in my direction. Their wide eyes stare back at me, their jaws slack—bewilderment in its rawest form.