“Liam,” she said, acknowledging him without any real warmth. That’s why he’d always thought of her as royalty. Stiff, formal, proper. He couldn’t imagine what she would have been like if she had married and had children. Children would require laughter and dirt—two things unthinkable in this household.
Henry poured them each a glass of wine and disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve their first course. Liam hated to see the old man wait on him. He should be in a recliner, watching television and enjoying his retirement, not serving meals to privileged people capable of doing it themselves. The man had never even married. He had no life of his own outside of this mansion.
“When are you going to let Henry retire?” he asked. “The poor man deserves some time off before he drops dead in your foyer.”
Aunt Beatrice bristled at the suggestion. “He loves it here. He wouldn’t think of leaving me. And besides, Henry would never die in the foyer. He knows how expensive that Oriental rug is.”
Liam sighed and let the subject drop. Henry placed bowls of soup in front of them both and disappeared again. “So, what have you summoned me here to discuss tonight?” He might as well just get it over with. There was no sense waiting for the chocolate soufflé or the cheese course.
“I received a phone call today from a man named Ron Wheeler.”
Liam stiffened in his seat and stopped his spoon of soup in midair. Ron Wheeler was in the business of buying struggling companies and “streamlining” them. That usually involved laying off at least half the employees and hacking up the benefits packages of the ones who were left. Then he’d break the company up into smaller pieces and sell them off for more than the price of the whole. No one liked to hear the mention of his name. “And what did he have to say?”
“He heard I’d bought a large portion of Graham Boyle’s ANS stock. He’s made me an extremely generous offer to buy it.”
At that, Liam dropped his spoon, sending splatters of butternut squash all across the pristine white tablecloth. Henry arrived in an instant to clean up the mess and bring him a new spoon, but Liam didn’t want it. He couldn’t stomach the idea of food at this point.
“Aunt Beatrice, your holding is larger than mine. If you sell him your stock, he’ll gain majority control of the company. The whole network will be at risk.”
She nodded, setting down her own spoon. “I realize that. And I know how important the company is to you. But I also want you to know how important this family is to me. I won’t be around forever, Liam. This family needs someone strong and smart to run it. You don’t need me to tell you that most of our relatives are idiots. My two sisters never had any sense and neither did their children. My father knew it, too, which is why he left most of the family money to me and your grandfather. He knew they’d all be broke and homeless without someone sensible in charge.”
Liam didn’t want to know where this conversation was going. It couldn’t be good. “Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with Ron Wheeler?”
“Because I think you’re the right person to lead the family after I’m gone.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he insisted. They both knew she was too mean to die. “You have plenty of years ahead of you.”
Her sharp blue gaze focused on him, an unexpected hint of emotion flashing in them for a fleeting second before she waved away his statement. “Everyone dies, Liam. It’s better to be prepared for the eventuality. I want you to take my place and be family patriarch. As such, you would inherit everything of mine and serve as executor of the family trusts.”
The blood drained from Liam’s face. He didn’t want that kind of responsibility. Two billion dollars and a family full of greedy suck-ups chasing him around? “I don’t want your money, Aunt Beatrice. You know that.”
“Exactly. But I know what you do want. You want ANS. And as long as I have my shares, you won’t truly have it. I could sell at any time to Ron Wheeler or anyone else who gives me a good offer.”
Liam took a big swallow of wine to calm his nerves. Aunt Beatrice had never held anything over him. She couldn’t because until now he hadn’t needed her or her money and she knew it. But he’d made a critical error. He never should’ve agreed to this stock arrangement with her. He’d given her the leverage to twist him any way she wanted to. “Why would you do that? I told you I would buy that stock from you at what you paid or the going rate, if it goes higher.”
“Because I want you to settle down. I can’t have you leading this family while you play newsman and chase skirts around D.C. I want you married. Stable. Ready to lead the Crowe family.”