Page 122 of White Knight Husband


Font Size:

That told me they knew something big was coming and they were eager for me to get the ball rolling, so I did. I stood when it was time, my voice steady and carrying easily through the room. “Gentlemen, thank you all for joining us. You’re all aware of the situation with Thayer Steelworks.”

A few nodded, but most just kept giving me the same, cautious looks. I didn’t make them wait long. “What you don’t know is that the current offer on the table undervalues the company strategically. Not in terms of assets, but in terms of positioning. Thayer isn’t just steel. It’s infrastructure. It’s leverage.”

I tapped the remote, bringing the numbers up behind me. “We’re countering. One billion.”

Someone inhaled sharply over the line, but I didn’t slow down. “This isn’t a gamble. It’s a consolidation move. We absorb Thayer completely, stabilize it, strip out the rot, and rebuild the core. In five years, it’ll be worth twice this. In ten, it anchors half our industrial portfolio.”

A voice cut in. “That’s a massive exposure.”

“No.” I turned toward the screen in question. “It’s decisive.”

Silence followed and I let it stretch for a long minute before I nodded, a little surprised that I wasn’t receiving any more pushback. “The numbers speak for themselves. We’ll put it toa vote, but you should knownois the wrong answer. Any questions?”

Sterling spoke first. “I vote yes.”

No hesitation. No qualifiers. Just that. Just yes. A trickle of relief ran through me, but I turned to Harlan next, watching as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re sure about this.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “I am.”

He nodded once. “Then it’s a yes from me, too.”

One by one, the votes came in.Yes. Yes. Yes.

My jaw relaxed as the tally climbed. I’d expected resistance. I’d planned for it. Instead, the momentum rolled forward like an unstoppable tide. When the last remote vote was cast, every box on the screen had gone green.

It was unanimous so far and there was only person left. My father. I turned slowly toward him, wondering if he was going to be the same kind of dark horse as Nora, but unlike her, he met my gaze. For a moment, I saw something like pride flicker there. Hne lifted his chin slightly.

“Yes,” he said.

The meeting adjourned shortly after that, the screens going dark and chairs scraping back. Nate glanced at me on his way out, but I nodded at him to leave, and then it was only my dad and me. He stood and walked over, stopping in front of me and clapping a hand on my shoulder.

“Well done, Alex,” he said simply.

I exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. “Thanks.”

“Your wife will be pleased.” He shot me a lopsided grin. “I’m surprised she isn’t here.”

“Jane doesn’t know yet, but she will,” I said. “I didn’t want to subject her to the stress of another vote so soon.”

He chuckled. “You always have been fiercely protective of the ones you care about.”

I nodded, but as I looked at him, the ease of his movements and the tension-free contours of his face, it hit me that he’d been looking like this since he’d walked in. He’d grinned at Harlan, hadn’t tensed once during the meeting, and then voted like the issue in question was whether we were getting pizza for dinner.

“Why?” I asked finally.

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Why what?”

“Why are you so okay with this?” I said, scrubbing a hand over my face. “It’s a gamble. You know that. Thayer Steelworks has been considered a dying animal for years. Everyone’s been circling it, waiting to see who’d carve it up first. It’s going to take an enormous amount of work. Time. Money we won’t see a gain for a few years.”

Dad didn’t interrupt, just watching me the way he’d always watched us as kids when he was deciding whether we were finished or just warming up.

“We’re talking about nearly a billion dollars,” I said. “Even for us, that’s not nothing. It might not break the bank, but it’s a significant risk. The board voted yes, but you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even ask for a break. I need to understand why.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he smiled in a way I rarely saw from him. It was almost soft and certainly older and wiser than usual, like he was about to impart knowledge he considered truly valuable.

“I would have done the same for your mother,” he said. “That’s why.”

The explanation hit me directly in the heart. “It’s hardly the same thing.”