The Ultimatum

           POV: Vivienne Ashford

By noon, Ashford Technologies was in turmoil.

Board members were demanding answers, phones kept ringing, and every major client that had cancelled overnight was refusing to take my calls.

I checked the latest financial projections on my laptop. If the cancellations continued, the company would face serious losses. I couldn't allow my mother's legacy to be destroyed.

Rosalie knocked and entered.

"Ms. Ashford, the board has called an emergency meeting for three o'clock. They want an explanation for the partner withdrawals."

"Move it to four," I said, reaching for my coat. "I need to deal with the person responsible."

Twenty minutes later, my Mercedes arrived at the Cavendish Estate.

Armed guards stood at the entrance. As my car approached, the gates opened without anyone asking for my identification.

He was expecting me.

I parked and got out. A woman in a dark pantsuit was waiting at the entrance.

"Ms. Ashford," she greeted me. "I'm Juliette Moreau, the Don's secretary. He's expecting you in the conservatory."

"Take me to him."

Juliette led me through the house and opened the doors to the conservatory.

Roman Cavendish stood beside a table, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

As soon as I entered, he crossed the room, caught me by the waist and kissed me.

I pushed against his chest and pulled away.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He still had one arm around me.

"I've been waiting for you, little rabbit."

"Stop calling me that." I pushed against him again until he released me. "And stop interfering with my company! You forced more than ten of my partners to terminate their contracts. Why?"

"Because you ran from me at Obsidian," he replied. "You walked away and expected me to leave you alone."

"That's no excuse for destroying my business."

"You wanted to fight me without understanding what I could do."

"It's extortion!" I snapped. "You expect me to beg you for help?"

"I don't want you to beg." He looked directly at me. "I want to offer you an eighteen-month contract marriage."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Once your divorce from Damon Pruitt is final, we'll marry under an eighteen-month contract. Until then, I'll help protect Ashford Technologies from the pressure I've put on it."

I folded my arms.

"And what do you get out of this?"

"You."

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"If you feel nothing for me when the eighteen months are over, you're free to leave. I'll also pay you the financial settlement we agree on. Neither of us will lose."

"And Damon?"

"I'll make sure he doesn't benefit from the shares you gave him. Your prenup already provides for that."

I hadn't expected him to know about the agreement.

"This is your solution?" I asked. "You ruin my business, then offer to save it if I marry you?"

"I've made my offer, Vivienne. The choice is yours."

He stepped closer.

"Fight this alone, or take my ring when your divorce is final."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He had deliberately put my company under pressure and was now asking me to marry him.

I took a step back.

"I need time to think."

I didn't wait for his answer. I left the conservatory and returned to my car.

I arrived at Ashford Technologies shortly before the rescheduled four o'clock board meeting.

The directors were already seated when I entered.

I took my place at the head of the table and addressed their concerns. I explained that I was in confidential negotiations with Cavendish Holdings over a possible business alliance and asked them to give me time to resolve the situation.

The mention of Cavendish Holdings eased some of their concerns, but I knew I still had a lot to deal with.

That night, I lay in bed at Ashford Manor, thinking about Roman's proposal.

An eighteen-month marriage.

I still couldn't decide whether his offer was a way out of my problems or another problem I would regret accepting.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I picked it up.

A message from an encrypted number appeared on the screen.

"Goodnight, little rabbit. Rest well. I'll be waiting."

— R