CHAPTER ONE
GEMMA
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“Well, Ms.Ford, I’mafraid that decision is not up to you.Obsidian Capital now owns your business,” Drew Carrington snaps at me over the phone.“So, unless you want to be in breach of the terms of our fucking contract, I will see your ass in my office on Monday morning.”
I stare at the phone as it goes dead.
What the hell?
He did not just hang up on me, did he?
Yes.He did.
Despite the shocked expression on my face, I’m not surprised.Drew Carrington is a cold-hearted, inflexible asshole.It’s what he’s known for in the business world, but what can I do?I chose to sell to him.
He’s right, I am obligated to show up on Monday, but when I heard rumors that he was going to shut down some of the branches of myformercompany, taking jobs, I hit the roof.
That was not the deal we made.
Was it the deal we made?The contract was so thick, I could use it as a doorstop, and his lawyers confused me.
I’m so out of my depth here.
I pace the polished wood floors of my penthouse, ignoring the views of Manhattan below, and curse his name while simultaneously questioning myself.
I should never have been thrust into this position.Never.I was supposed to raise our daughter and let Anthony run the family business.But oh no, he had to go and die on me.
Sorry, darling, I don’t mean that.I glance upward and grimace.
God, I’m a horrible person.
I glance at the roaring fire, thinking so hard my brain hurts.Didn’t the contract protect the company from being torn apart?
I spin around, stride across the room, and head down the hall.
“Gemma, take your shoes off if you’re going to stomp around,” Mom says, sipping her martini from the doorway, which she shouldn’t be drinking given she was babysitting today.Unless it’s her first, but I guarantee you it wasn’t.“They make a racket, and you’ll wake Zoe.”
My daughter Zoe is three going on fourteen and is a mini version of me, but she has her father’s intelligence.She’s far too bright for her own good, with the silliest sense of humor.
My wee princess has kept a smile on my face even on my darkest days.Days I’ve tried to hide from her so she isn’t impacted, but the truth is, as any parent knows, kids are highly intuitive.
It’s a survival instinct, I’m sure of it.
Regardless of the resilience that kids naturally have, I want to protect her and will continue to do that.Which means not letting her see the burden I’m under.
Grief is healthy.
But not the business stress and worry I carry each day and have for the past twelve months.The fear that if I don’t get this right, not only will we have lost her father’s legacy (which was meant to be hers) but also our home.
I can’t.
That would break me.
“I don’t stomp around.I’m not ten,” I snap at Mom and continue down toward Anthony’s office.
My husband passed away a year ago—one year, three days and *checks my Apple Watch* five hours.
