“Nurturing?”
He looked toward the ceiling, a sure sign of his that he was irritated. “That food truck wouldn’t be running without some Irish ties. We discussed this already. I won’t work with them.”
“That was hardly nurturing a partnership—"
“Your grandmother had more than that.” Bastian cut me off. “I’ll buy your shares. Fair price. I’ll take care of this city…and you. You have my word.”
Mr. Finley continued as if Bastian hadn’t spoken. “So, your grandmother inherited these stocks and the company agreed to keep her identity secret. She moved from the city, changed her name. No one knew she was making large decisions for the company.”
I grumbled and crossed my arms. This was bullshit. Grandma had left me to go in completely blind. My heart beat faster and faster as his words sank in. “Changed her name? Why?”
“It’s a dangerous business.” Bastian filled the silence in the room, like he filled every space he entered. “She wanted protection, probably for you and your parents.”
Life had been simpler without knowing and my simple ignorance bred a happiness I could live with.
“I’m sorry,” I wheezed, gripping the metal arm of the uncomfortable chair. The world turned on its axis. The water that normally just ebbed and flowed with the tides, whooshed over and tore apart my carefully concocted simple life.
The whole world stopped. Even the water that I synced my breathing with. In that moment I even believed the earth had turned flat and tipped over sideways, dropping me off a cascading waterfall.
Mr. Finley continued reading the will. I saw his mouth moving. I watched how he formed each word and yet I couldn’t make out a single one.
The only part I put together was the part I knew I couldn’t handle: “She wants you to decide the fate of the company. She’s giving you majority share. She wanted me to state that these shares are somewhat dangerous to own.” He glanced at Bastian. “You understand, right, Morina?”
“If Bastian knows what to do…” I waved away the rest, then took a deep breath. “I’ll do what’s needed for this city. I’ll sell to him.”
The mob. I’d be selling to the mob. No one wanted to say we were surrounded by men who could kill us, but that was the truth.
Mr. Finley cleared his throat. “There’s a stipulation.”
Bastian glared at the estate lawyer. His voice held the threat of fury. “Go on.”
Before he continued, he gulped like he knew it wasn’t about to go over well. “So, to keep the city and Morina safe, the conditions are that she marry into the Armanelli family, of course. Your grandmother wanted me to put ‘of course’ in the writing.” He chuckled like we all knew this.
“You can’t be...” I sucked in what oxygen I could. But I was gulping in too much air.
Or too little.
I stood up so fast, my chair flew back.
It never hit the floor because Bastian caught it, his gold Rolex peeking out from under his sleeve.
I stared at him as he set it all back in place like he’d seen it coming, like he was two steps ahead of my every move. I wanted to scream at the smug look on his face.
“You’re kidding.” I shook my head, my wavy hair looking even more crazy as I glanced from one to the other.
“This is not a joke.” Mr. Finley straightened his glasses, his knuckles cracking. “Maribel felt this would be most beneficial for the city and for you, Morina.”
Would I be arrested if I jumped across the table to strangle the messenger?
“This is your fault.” The words flew out of me before I could stop them as I turned to Bastian. I spat them like a viper ready to bite down on a victim. “You did this.”
“No. Morina, your grandmother did this,” he replied, irritation on his face too. “It seems this is an inconvenience for all of us.”
“Inconvenience?” I screeched. “Are you kidding me? It’s nothing to you. But to me, it’s everything! I’m not marrying you.”
“Nothing to me?” he whispered. Then, he stood slowly and straightened that stupid, stuffy suit of his. “I don’t enjoy being around you. I need the shares, not some flippant girl who runs a food truck. I definitely don’t want to be tied to you legally in any way, shape, or form. But the company is at stake.”
“The company? What about the city?” I stomped my foot.