Chapter 1

The day I discovered I would have to beg Aziel Richards for help was the day I realized God had a truly twisted sense of humor.

I was sitting in Gerald Hartwell's office, still wearing the black dress from my dad’s funeral. I've lost count of the times I was told that the funeral arrangement was beautiful, as if my father's death could be reduced to a floral arrangement and a polished eulogy.

Many people showed up to pay their last homage to my father. Business associates who had spent years trying to outmaneuver my father now stood in line to shake my hand. Politicians who had once called him a ruthless capitalist now spoke of his philanthropy with tears in their eyes. Some old friends who hadn't bothered to visit him in the hospital now wept openly over his coffin.

I watched them all with a face carved from stone.She hasn't cried once, they whispered. What kind of daughter doesn't cry at her own father's funeral?

I heard them but I have learnt long ago that the truth was a luxury I couldn't afford. So I stood there, perfectly composed, masking the cold hard knot of grief in my chest.

A slight turn of my head ignited a burning rage the moment I saw Arthur Kane standing beside my uncle Victor at the gravesite acting like longtime buddies.

I had known Arthur my entire life. He is tall and silver-haired with a charm that attracts both old and young. He is also my father's business partner of over two decades, and has been a constant figure at our dinner table and my birthday parties. He had been my dear Uncle Arthur, a man I had once trusted, until I learned the truth.

Arthur Kane wanted Grant Industries all to himself and when he realized my father would never sell, he went to my dad’s brother Victor.

Just when I thought I had survived the worst part of my day, nothing prepared me for the will reading three hours later.

I sat at one end of a long mahogany table with my best friend Nina beside me. Victor sat at the other end wearing a blank expression. Gerald cleared his throat and began to read.

My father had left me everything. The house I grew up in, his personal fortune which was held in trust and The Grant Foundation, which he'd built with my mother before she died. Nina leaned toward me and whispered, "Well, at least you won't be living in a box."

Then Gerald turned the page.

"As for my controlling shares in Grant Industries," he read, "they will transfer to my daughter, Ria Grace Grant, on the day she is legally married. If she is not married within six months of this reading, they will pass to my brother, Victor Grant."

The room went quiet.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Could you read that again? I think the grief is affecting my hearing."

Gerald's face was pained. "You are free to claim everything else without conditions, Ria. The house, the trust and the Foundation. You could walk away from the company today and never worry about money again."

"But if I want Grant Industries."

"You must be married."

At the other end of the table, Victor smiled.

"Of course," he said smoothly, "no one would blame you for taking the money and enjoying your life, Ria. Running a company like ours isn't for everyone."

I looked at my uncle. My uncle looked back at me, pleased as a cat with a fresh bowl of cream.

"Nice try," I said.

I turned back to Gerald. "Why would my father do this? He knew I've spent my whole life preparing to run that company. He knew it was all I ever wanted."

"He did." Gerald hesitated. "He told me he would never hand you a company full of wolves and then leave you to face them alone. He wanted you to have support when you took over."

"How would I get support by marrying a stranger."

"He didn't say who but he left you a letter." Gerald pulled an envelope from his folder, sealed with red wax. "He asked me to give it to you privately."

I took it but I didn't open it. Not with Victor watching.

When the others had filed out, I stayed behind. "How much power does my uncle have right now?"

Gerald's expression darkened. "Until probate is complete, Victor holds temporary stewardship. He has access to the company accounts. He can call board meetings. He can make decisions that can be undone Jo but only with time and money."

"So he can do a lot of damage in six months."

"Yes."

"And he will."

"I think," Gerald said carefully, "that you should expect it."

I walked out with my chin up. I made it all the way to my car before my face crumpled.

I sat behind the wheel with both hands gripping it, and I cried for the first time since my father died. Nina climbed into the passenger seat and rubbed my back without saying a word, because she's the kind of friend who knows when words are useless.

You gave me everything, I thought. Except the one thing I actually asked for. A fair fight.

When I could breathe again, I broke the wax and unfolded the letter.

My dearest Ria,

If you are reading this, then I'm gone, and I've handed you a choice I wish I could have spared you.

You can take what I've left you and live a quiet, comfortable life. I would never think less of you for it. But I know my daughter. You won't walk away from Grant Industries, and I won't let you walk into it alone.

There are things I couldn't put in a will. Things I should have told you while I still could. For now, know this. There is only one man I trust to stand beside you.

My breath caught.

I know what he did to you. I know you'll be furious that I'm writing his name. But I also know something you don't, and I'm sorry I waited too long to say it.

Please, Ria. Trust me one last time. Go to Aziel Richards.

All my love,

Dad

I read the name twice. Then I folded the letter, put it back in its envelope, and said the only reasonable thing.

"Absolutely not."

Nina glanced at me. "Absolutely not what?"

"Nothing." I started the car. "I'll find another way."