Then again, he had no other option. If I failed, he’d lose everything too. The inheritance. The company. His life.
I swallowed the bitter fear. “I will offer you gentleman a choice. Take it and survive. Challenge it and…” I glanced at Max. “Well…we’re not willing to negotiate.”
Bryant shrugged. “There is nothing you can do to us. What is it you want?”
“You all will sell your shares of the Bennett Corporation to Nicholas, Max, and Reed.”
Darius answered for the board. “No.”
“This is my first and only offer.”
He grinned. “It’s refused.”
“You haven’t heard my conditions.”
“Nothing you say will convince me to resign from my post and award my traitorous, ungrateful sons with the empire I built.” His very presence fouled the conversation. I swore I felt his breath on my neck once more. “They receive my shares only when I die, and you were too weak to finish it.”
Not weak. Just confused.
I forgot my reasons for vengeance, how I planned to ruin Darius Bennett and inflict the most suffering.
I took his family first, and now with Darius alone and abandoned, I aimed my next slice. That sword would puncture through the heart of his empire.
“Almost two months ago, I emailed my attorney, directing Atwood Industries to create a partnership with the Bennett Corporation. We joined in a comprehensive contract. Our company would become the sole provider for every agrochemical product servicing my fields. You accepted this bid. And, by now, every single field, every crop, every trembling leaf I own has been exposed to your chemicals.”
The board cast uncertain glances to Darius, but he could no longer help them. They were already ruined.
“We joined with great publicity,” I said. “I released a press packet, and my announcement video reached other farms, clients, every vendor associated with our companies.” I arched an eyebrow. “After all, this was a monumental partnership. The world watched as my farm stuffed millions into your pockets, and so many new customers joined with me because of the weight the Atwood name carries in the agricultural industry. I lead by example.”
Silence.
I grinned.
“So, imagine what would happen if I have one bad harvest.”
Their rapt attention was better than any spray of blood or cry of pain.
The board stared, tensed and horrified.
Helpless.
I continued, pretending the thoughts hadn’t already crossed my mind. Weren’t already in play.
“Imagine how tragic it would be if a mistake were made, or if a defective product treated my fields?” I let the question linger. “An entire harvest could be lost. The soil contaminated. My crops ruined.”
The words terrified me, even in a hypothetical context, but I was prepared to see it become a reality. If it destroyed me, I would force the Bennett Corporation through the same hellfire.
“I would lose millions of dollars. Billions in potential sales and future revenue. One bad mixture. One misplaced chemical from your own workers—who we contracted specifically to handle the treatment of my farms—would be…horrible for us all.” I hesitated. “Though I’d imagine it’d be more devastating to the reputation of the Bennett Corporation.”
“And how would something like that happen?” Bryant gritted his teeth. “We could deny it. Accuse you of tampering with the product. Corporate sabotage.”
“Me?” I widened my eyes. “The innocent Sarah Atwood? Lost and desperate to maintain a family farm that she was never intended to run?”
“Everyone would see through it,” he warned.
“No. Not when I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family—both the Atwoods and Bennetts. Oh, and of course…” I rubbed my tummy. “My little baby. I wouldn’t know the first thing about corporate sabotage. My father taught me nothing about business. I was always supposed to be…what was it?” I tilted my head. “An incubator?”
Bryant silenced. They all did. I liked the board better when they choked on their own fear.
“This is my offer. Resign, sell your stocks to my step-brothers, make a profit. Do this, and we won’t need to consider how one little whisper about the quality of your product would impact your bottom line.” I paused. “So many of my associates’ farms are eager to view my new yields.”
I waited. The board stilled, considering an offer that was more knife to the throat than business proposition.
Darius spoke first, amused. “My dear, you don’t have the power to destroy this company. Especially with only a few gossiped, unsubstantiated rumors. You’ll lose everything in the libel suit.”
Nicholas’s confident caramel hum purged his father’s amusement. “Not necessarily. Atwood farms represent a new path for the Bennett Corporation. You remember that Ms. Atwood specializes in developing genetically modified crops. Some of her discoveries worked with the natural herbicide and pesticide traits present in certain plant genomes.”
Nicholas placed a hand on my shoulder. The heat surged through me.
“In fact.” He didn’t break his father’s stare. “You were very eager to purchase her research. You saw the potential long before any other, including Mark Atwood.”
I nodded. “I own the patents for certain genes, modifications to the plant genomes which, with additional research and trials, will allow us to grow crops capable of surviving and thriving without chemical treatment. I can create new seeds, drought-resistant plants, natural pest-resistant crops.” And now they saw the power I wielded. I grinned. “My work eliminates the need for all those nasty, toxic chemicals which can so easily render us…ill.”
Darius didn’t react, but the pallor cast over his cheeks hinted at the poison which still ravaged his system.
“I foresee two scenarios,” I said. “If you refuse my offer, I will ensure the complete and total destruction of my entire fall harvest. Not a single root will be viable once I’m finished, and I would swear to the world your product’s chemical reactions diseased my fields.”
I paused only to prepare myself for that horrible possibility.
“Should this happen, in my sorrow and desperation, I’ll have only one choice to protect my family and farm from future harm—the creation of a new company, specializing in genetically modified, herbicide, pesticide, and fertilizer free crops. And believe me, presented with the choice? Why would anyone risk their farms, their health, or the health of their baby if there were an alternative to those chemicals?”
Stanley sighed, planting a wrinkled hand against the table. “I’ve heard enough. What do you want from us, Ms. Atwood?”
“Resign, take your payouts, and leave this room wealthier than you entered. Do this, and my research will remain within the Bennett Corporation, financed through their R&D division. All future profits, discoveries, and patents will be secured by the company that would lose the most if it were developed beyond its walls.” I shrugged. “Or you can stay, and I’ll burn the company to the ground and let you sift through the ashes for your pride.”
Darius questioned me. “My dear, you wouldn’t dare jeopardize your family’s precious farm. This is your livelihood, your father and brothers’ legacy. You won’t bargain with it.”
Yes, I would.
In a heartbeat.
No—in the wub-bub flutter of Bumper’s heartbeat.
“She’s insane,” Bryant said. “It’s as if Mark Atwood sits before us. She’s fucking dangerous. We should have put her down when we had the chance.”
Stanley silenced him with a wave of his claw. “Ms. Atwood, surely you realize what you propose is illegal, unethical, and immoral.”
“All is fair in vengeance,” I said. “Be grateful I’m offering you the chance to live.”
Peter Hannigan grunted. “We can’t let this child best us. I have a lot of money invested in this company. I’ll be damned if I see a Bennett bend to the will of an Atwood.”
“You’re mistaken,” I said. “I’m not doing this for the Atwoods. I’m doing this for a Bennett. For this baby. You wanted my farm. You wanted an alliance between Atwood and Bennett.” I extended my arms, gesturing to my silent but stalwart step-brothers. “Reap what you sow, gentlemen. I am eager to begin this new partnership.”