Chapter 7: The heir’s calculation

Ronan's POV

I sit at the table for twenty minutes after Annabelle runs out. The waiter keeps hovering nearby, probably wondering if I'm going to pay the bill or cause another scene. I signal for the check and leave enough cash to cover dinner plus a generous tip for the drama.

My phone is already buzzing before I make it to the car. Marcus calling for the third time tonight.

"What?" I answer, sliding into the back seat.

"How did it go?" Marcus sounds cautious, like he's expecting bad news.

"About as well as you'd imagine." I lean my head back against the leather seat and close my eyes. "She knows everything. The inheritance, Harrison being her father, all of it."

"And?"

"And she ran out of the restaurant like I was trying to murder her." The memory of her face, the horror and betrayal in her eyes, makes my stomach twist. "She thinks I've been playing her this whole time."

"Haven't you been?" Marcus asks quietly.

The question pisses me off more than it should. "I didn't know who she was when I started going to that café. You know that."

"But once you suspected?" Marcus presses. "Once we started getting close to confirming her identity, you kept going back. You asked her out. You were planning something, Ronan."

I hate that he's right. The truth is I'd started to suspect about two weeks ago when Marcus mentioned the investigator had narrowed the search to Queens. The timing was too convenient. A girl named Annabelle working at a café in the exact neighborhood where Elena Reyes had lived.

"I was gathering information," I say finally. "Trying to figure out what kind of person she was. Whether she'd be easy to negotiate with."

"And the feelings?" Marcus asks. "Were those part of the strategy too?"

"There are no feelings." The lie tastes bitter. "She's just a girl who happened to work at a café I liked. That's all."

Marcus is quiet for a long moment. "Your mother called me. She knows about the dinner. She wants you at the estate tonight."

Of course she does. Victoria always knows everything eventually. "Fine. Tell her I'm on my way."

The drive to the Blackthorne estate takes forty minutes. Forty minutes of me trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to say to my mother. Forty minutes of Annabelle's face flashing through my mind, the way she looked at me like I was a monster.

Maybe I am a monster. Maybe that's what this family does to people.

Victoria is waiting in the study when I arrive. She's wearing a cream colored suit that probably costs more than most people make in a month, her hair perfect despite the late hour. She doesn't believe in looking anything less than immaculate, even in private.

"Sit down," she says without preamble.

I drop into one of the leather chairs across from her desk. "Marcus told you about the dinner."

"Marcus told me that you revealed our entire hand to that girl without securing any kind of agreement first." Victoria's voice is ice cold. "Would you like to explain what you were thinking?"

"She was going to find out eventually. The thirty day period is almost up. Once the public notices go out, every news outlet in the country will be hunting for her."

"Which is exactly why we needed to get to her first, quietly, before she understood what she was inheriting." Victoria stands and walks to the window overlooking the grounds. "Do you have any idea what thirty five percent of this company is worth, Ronan?"

"Of course I do."

"Then you understand that this girl now has the power to block every major decision you try to make. She can deadlock the board. She can force sales or mergers or restructuring." Victoria turns to face me. "She can destroy everything your father built."

"She doesn't even want the money," I say, though I'm not sure why I'm defending Annabelle. "She works two jobs to pay her mother's medical bills. She's not some corporate raider looking to tear apart the company."

"She's not some corporate raider yet," Victoria corrects. "Wait until she gets a lawyer. Wait until someone explains to her exactly what she's entitled to. People change very quickly when they realize they're suddenly worth billions."

I think about Annabelle's face in the restaurant, the shock and pain when I told her about Harrison. She looked like her world was ending, not like someone who just won the lottery.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask.

Victoria walks back to her desk and pulls out a folder. "The investigator compiled a complete background report. Annabelle Callahan, twenty two years old, works at Rosemary's Café and also part time at a bookstore in Manhattan. Student loan debt from one year of community college before she dropped out. Mother died yesterday from cancer after a two year battle that bankrupted them both."

Hearing it laid out like that, clinical and cold, makes me feel sick. "I know all this."

"Then you know she's desperate. Vulnerable. Grieving." Victoria slides the folder across the desk. "Which makes this the perfect time to make her an offer she can't refuse."

I open the folder and scan the first page. It's a settlement agreement. "Five million dollars?"

"More money than she'd see in ten lifetimes working at cafés," Victoria says. "In exchange, she signs away all claims to the Blackthorne estate. She walks away, we never hear from her again, and you get full control of the company."

"And if she says no?"

Victoria's smile is sharp. "Then we move to plan B. The investigator found some irregularities in Elena's medical insurance claims. It appears she may have falsified information to get coverage for her cancer treatments."

"May have?" I look up at her. "Or you're making it look like she did?"

"Does it matter?" Victoria shrugs. "Either way, if Annabelle doesn't cooperate, we can threaten her with fraud charges. Prison time. Her mother's memory destroyed. That should be motivation enough."

I stare at the settlement agreement, at the blank line where Annabelle would sign away her birthright. This is what I wanted, isn't it? My full inheritance. No complications. No illegitimate half sister showing up to claim what's mine.

So why does it feel so wrong?

"You've worked your entire life for this company," Victoria says, her voice softer now. "You were groomed from childhood to take over. You earned this, Ronan. She's done nothing except be born to the wrong woman."

She's right. I have earned this. Every business degree, every internship, every board meeting I sat through learning how to run a billion dollar empire. What has Annabelle done except serve coffee and smile at customers?

"When do we make the offer?" I ask.

"Tomorrow. Let her spend one night grieving and scared and alone. Then we present the settlement as her salvation." Victoria closes the folder. "And Ronan? This time you let me do the talking. You've proven you're too emotionally involved to handle this properly."

I want to argue but she's right about that too. I am too emotionally involved. Some stupid part of me still wants to protect Annabelle, to make sure she's okay, to fix the hurt I saw in her eyes.

But that's not who I can afford to be right now. I'm the heir to Blackthorne Industries. I'm the CEO who's supposed to be ruthless and calculating and willing to do whatever it takes to win.

Even if it means destroying a girl who never asked for any of this.