They all looked at each other, taken aback.
Lincoln furrowed his brows.
"My father wrote the will, he chose . If he thought I was any less competent than Preston was, I wouldn’t be the one standing here. It would be Preston. But as you can see, none of that is happening."
She sneered over to Preston whose head was boiling red as if it could explode.
"No vote," she said. "No majority bullshit holds any weight within this room. Every decision is up to and if I decide to run this corporation myself, there is nothing you can do about it. At most, you’ll withdraw, no?"
"Girl!" Marcella slamd her hands on the table. "You have no right speaking to us that way!"
Evelyn looked at her.
She rounded the desk until she could stand toe to toe with her, expression blank.
"What did he offer you?" she asked. "Preston."
"aning what?"
"You said my father was a competent man, Mrs. Moretti, yet here you are, intending to overrule his decision. Unwilling to respect it."
Marcella’s hands balled into fists. "Listen, girl—"
"If any of you wish to withdraw from TDG, kindly raise a hand, because I have no intention of handing the corporation over to anyone. Not Preston, not Brandon, and not Lyra Darkwood. Not even to my uncle, Lincoln Darkwood. However."
She paused, facing them with a soft smile.
"I hope you’re aware that most of your benefits co from TDG alone. While your withdrawal may shake the corporation a bit, you’ll be the ones to experience the most loss. After all, there are more than wanted companies in line to partner with TDG. It is one of the biggest corporations that has been standing on its toes for more than twenty years now. The choice is all up to you. Your reasons for this little voting ga, ask yourselves if it’s worth it, before making your decisions."
"Let’s hold this eting again. By next Monday, I’m sure every one of you would’ve co to a decision." Her lips stretched into a light smile.
She bowed slightly, turning to leave the room.
Lincoln was, however, staring at her.
And she gazed at him.
What was his problem? What was that unreadable look in his eyes?
Balling her hands inside the pocket of her slacks, she left the room, the door slamd shut.
"Unacceptable!" Romano spat.
Preston slamd his hands on the table. "None of you are planning to give up on this, on , right? You said you’d stand with . You wouldn’t retreat now, would you?"
Marcella pinched the bridge of her nose.
"This is not just about you, Preston Darkwood."
"aning what?" He glared at her. "We ca to an agreent! Every one of you accepted the money I off—"
Zayne rattled his chair back and stood to his feet.
Preston t his gaze.
There was pure disdain in the blue of his eyes, hands digging into the pocket of his knee-length coat. "Using cheap ans to have what isn’t yours... You overestimate yourself too much, Preston. Perhaps, it is why TDG isn’t yours in the first place."
And with that, he left, giving Preston no chance to bite back.
Lincoln rose to his feet as well.
"Uncle!" Preston hurried over to him. "Where are you going? You said we—"
"I must head to my company now, Preston. Let’s talk so other ti." Lincoln’s eyes were cold, face blank with no expression.
Preston was losing his mind, watching everyone leave this room, none trying or even putting in any effort to give him what he wanted.
Cheap ans?
TDG was his. It was rightfully his!
....
Zayne walked after Evelyn who was heading for the elevator. He grabbed her before she could get in, eyes searching her with pure curiosity.
She blinked at him. "What?"
"What was that in there?"
"What was what?"
He leaned in, face dangerously close to hers, but he was watching her, trying to intimidate her.
Evelyn stood unmoving, brow cocked at him. She tilted her head with a mock expression, smiling, "What are you doing, Peacock?"
"You were like a different person in there..." he drawled thoughtfully.
"Different person?" She chuckled, amused. "What are you talking about, Zayne?"
"You didn’t give the impression that you were anything but a crybaby, and maybe a little bit of a spoiled brat," he said, voice low with implication.
She smirked, eyeing him from head to toe and back up to et his eyes. "A crybaby? Because of that one ti?"
"First impressions matter. You couldn’t even find your breath."
"That was a situation I’d never been in before. Admit it or not, it was frightening. I really thought I was going to die." Then her face hardened, posture straightening. "But Mr. Mancini, while a bit of a spoiled brat, a crybaby, I’m anything but a pushover."
He drew his back just slightly, noticing the change in her deanor.
"I know how to stand up and defend myself. I don’t know what gave them the impression that intimidation would work on , but two can play this ga."
Oh fuck. Zayne stared long and hard.
His canines itched. He ran his tongue over the tip of his front teeth, eyes narrowing softly with the smile that painted his lips.
Was this attraction to her confidence?
He’d never felt himself pounding with so much need to mark her, not even when he sparked with her for the first ti or when she looked up at him with those pretty green eyes.
Evelyn cocked a brow, and then slowly grinned. "If you keep looking at like that, Peacock, I might just—"
"Evelyn!"
She turned at the sa ti as Zayne, their gaze landing on Preston.
The man stord over to them and before she could even say a word, Preston snatched her wrist, proceeding to drag her away.
Zayne however, gripped his arm, holding him still.
Preston shot him a look. He tried to force out of his hold, struggling.
"What the—?!" How could he be that strong? He wasn’t a small man himself, yet this man was keeping him in place as if he were a child.
"Unhand her," Zayne demanded.
Preston glared. "Unhand , Mr. Mancini, while I’m being respectful about it!"
"And what are you going to do if I don’t?" Zayne questioned, raising a questioning brow.
Reviews
All reviews (0)