The Marriage Ultimatum

Liam

Weakness is expensive. 

That was the first thing my father taught me. 

The second, never let others know where yours lie. 

I should have remembered that last night. 

“Your numbers are slipping.” My father’s voice cuts through my thoughts. 

I was brought back to the boardroom meeting. The table surrounded my executives. None of them were staring. I could see them watching.

They were always watching. 

I glanced at the documents before me. Quarter projections, acquisition delays, missed opportunities.” 

All mine, all recent, and all of them were avoidable. 

“I’m aware.” I responded.

“Are you?”

I look up. 

Mark Blackwell was a man that raised his voice. He never did. For control was not determined by volume. 

“Because from where I’m sitting,” He continued. “You’re losing focus.”

The atmosphere in the room changes, and I could feel the eyes turn. 

“If you have something to say, then say it.” I was impatient. 

“I do, and I am. You’re losing focus” His cold gaze meets mine. 

Cold, calculating, ruthless.

“I’m handling multiple divisions.” 

“You’ve always handled multiple divisions. What’s changed?” 

Nothing. 

Everything. 

Hazel eyes. Soft soothing voice. A woman standing out of place in my apartment, making it feel less empty.

I shook it off. It didn’t matter. None of it did. 

“Nothing’s changed.” I responded, maintaining eye contact. 

My father was not one to look away easily. He had a skill for determining untruths simply by looking into the eyes of his suspect. 

Did he know?

He probably did. 

He always did. 

One of the board members cleared his throat, and began. “I think it’s time we addressed the topic of succession.” 

This was where the real conversation started. Not quarterly losses, not minor slips.

This! 

This is what mattered. 

Power. 

The room shifts, interests are piqued and gazes move. 

“Go on.” My father says calmly. 

“You’ve built this company to the success it is today,” He paused, glaring between us. “But it is time to consider transition. Liam is the natural successor.”

Murmurs of agreement ripple across the table. 

Of course they do. I had carried the company on my back for far too long. 

It was time I became its head in both function and title.

“Is he?” My father continued. 

“Yes… he has shown incredible competence throughout the years.” The man responded. 

“Competent isn’t the same as ready.” My father said flatly.

My jaws clenched. 

Here we go. 

“And what exactly qualifies as ready?” I ask, impatient. 

“I think you’re excellent at control. But you need more than that to run this company successfully.” He paused. “You need stability.” 

“And what makes you think I’m not stable?” Our gazes were fully locked. 

“Lapses in judgement, missed opportunities, unusually quick outbursts.” He said calmly. 

I may run the place, but everyone else still reported back to him. 

Fucking classic.

“That’s none of your business. And so long as they turn in profits, how I run the company doesn’t matter.” I said. 

“But it does matter. It matters a great deal.” He paused, and took on a haughty look. “You lack discipline, Liam. You can’t run a company when you’re acting on impulse.” 

The board members shifted uncomfortably.

Good. 

They should. 

This conversation wasn't about them, but if my father was going to make it everyone’s business, I didn’t plan on backing down.

“What do you propose?” I ask, meeting his gaze. 

He leaned back slightly. “When you can prove you’re no longer susceptible to distractions, then we can have this conversation.” 

“And turning in profits isn’t enough to prove that?” 

“It’s not.”

“Then what is?”

He paused, and then continued. “It’s very simple really,”

It was not simple. Nothing my father proposed was never simple. 

He was luring me into a trap. 

But first I needed to understand that trap. 

“To prove you’re not susceptible to distractions, you must attain stability.” 

There it was again. What did he mean by distractions. 

“Cut to the chase, Dad.”

“Get married.”

There was a long quiet silence.

Now it was time for the board members to get really uncomfortable. 

“Married,” I repeated.

“Yes.” He said, calmly.

“You want me to prove I can run a multi billion dollar company by getting married?” 

“I want you to prove to be stable, so you can run a multi billion dollar company.” 

“You want optics.” 

“I want stability.”

“That has nothing to do with my ability to run the company.” 

“It has everything to do with your ability to run the company. A man who cannot manage a home cannot be trusted with a corporation. Your personal life reflects on your corporate life, Liam. I cannot risk handing Blackwell enterprises over to you when you just aren’t ready.” 

The look in his eyes make realize he knew more than he was revealing. This had nothing to do with stability, he just wanted to tie me down.

To ensure I never drifted off his reach. He had no intention of retiring early. He would hand me the company when he wanted to, and prove that he knew better. 

“What do you know, Dad?” 

“You’ve been seen.” 

His words are quiet, but they land. 

“Seen,” I repeated. 

“At the gala. With a woman nobody knows and leaving early.” 

He was calm with his words. He had no need to be aggressive. His mere indifference was more terrifying than his anger. 

“You left the gala with an unknown woman to God knows where. Not like you.”

And there it was.

Of course he knew. 

Of course someone reported back to him. 

There was no privacy until I replaced him. He had taught me how to control, and as such he knew how I manipulated. 

But his methods were beyond me. 

“It was irrelevant.” I say finally.

“Nothing is irrelevant. Not when you’re about to inherit everything.” He said, allowing me to digest his words before proceeding. 

“Bring me a wife. One that can strengthen the company’s reputation. Prove you’ve attained stability, and the company is yours.” 

The meeting ended shortly after, and I sat there knowing he had me. It was a checkmate.

I had no lover, and I didn’t plan on getting one. Going through the trouble of finding one and getting married all to prove my father wrong would take as long as he needed to reach his desired age of retirement. 

And then a thought flashed across my mind. 

What if I didn’t need to c

reate a family from scratch?

What if I could acquire one to prove my father wrong, and be rid of them the second the company was mine. 

Only one name kept flashing in my mind. 

She was inevitable.