An Heiress for His Empire. Lucy Monroe
you again.”
He wasn’t overtly sexual, but there was a vibe to him that made Maddie wrap her arms protectively around herself. This man carried power around him the same way Vik did, but with a predatory edge she hadn’t experienced from her father’s heir apparent.
Then, she’d never been his business rival.
“I don’t believe we’ve met?” She forced her arms to fall to her sides.
“I saw you at the Red Ball last February.”
She remembered going to the charity event that raised money for research into heart disease, but she didn’t remember seeing him.
“I would have remembered.”
“I’m glad to hear you say so.” His teeth flashed in a blinding white smile. “But I meant what I said. I saw you there. We were not introduced.”
“Oh.”
Her father cleared his throat in that disapproving way he had, but if he expected Maddie to say it was a pleasure to meet the man—under these circumstances—he didn’t know her very well.
But then that had been her problem most of her life, hadn’t it?
THE MORNING HAD GONE according to Viktor’s plans so far, but the spark of temper in Madison’s brilliant blue eyes threatened to derail it.
If Jeremy had evinced even one iota of the concern Viktor knew the older man felt for his daughter’s current predicament, she would be reacting very differently. But then if father and daughter got along perfectly, or even very well, Viktor’s own plans would by necessity be very different.
“You know, I never even entertained the fantasy that you called me to help me, to take my side for once, to protect me because I mattered to you.” The beautiful redhead offered the emotionally laden words in a flat tone Viktor almost envied.
She would be one hell of a poker player.
She was lying, though. Madison wouldn’t have shown up if she didn’t think her father would help her.
“You never were a child taken with fairy tales,” Jeremy said.
Viktor could have reined in the older man’s prideful idiocy, but that wouldn’t further his own agenda. However, he felt an unexpected pang of guilt at Madison’s barely there flinch and flash of pain in the azure depths of her eyes.
She recovered quickly, her expression smooth—almost bored. “No, that was always Mom’s department. She lived under the fallacy that you cared about us. I know better.”
It was Jeremy’s turn to flinch and he wasn’t as fast at hiding his reaction as his daughter, but then he had to be in shock. Madison didn’t go for the jugular like that. In fact, in all the arguments between the tycoon and his daughter Viktor had been privy to, he’d never heard Madison use her mother’s memory against her father before.
No triumph at the emotional bloodletting showed on Madison’s porcelain features.
Instead, she looked like she wanted nothing more than to get up and walk away. The fact she stayed in her seat was proof the heiress might be criminally flagrant in her personal life, but she wasn’t stupid.
She knew her father well enough to be aware that Jeremy’s arsenal of threats wasn’t empty.
“You have five minutes.” Madison’s words verified she did indeed realize her father had more encouragement to lay on the table, but also that she had little patience in waiting to find out what it was.
Color washed over Jeremy’s face. “Excuse me?”
“She wants the other two prongs to the pitchfork,” Viktor informed his boss.
Jeremy’s scowl said he knew that’s what she’d meant, but he didn’t like the time limit or implied ultimatum that Madison would get up and leave if it wasn’t met.
“Pitchfork?” Black asked.
Viktor could have answered, but he didn’t. Giving Maxwell Black any kind of information wasn’t on his agenda for the day. Viktor had ignored the presence of the other candidates at the table as superfluous, and planned to continue to do so.
Madison wasn’t so reticent. “Jeremy never enters a fight he isn’t sure he can win. To that end, he stacks the deck. He’ll have three scenarios in the offing, none of which will I want to eventuate.”
“You call your father by his first name?” Black asked.
Madison flicked a meaning-laden glance in the tycoon’s direction. “As he pointed out, I’m the not the one in the family to wallow in sentimental fantasy.”
What she didn’t say was that until that morning, Madison had called Jeremy Archer Father and sometimes even Dad. That she would no longer do so could be taken from her words as a given.
No question that the company president had seriously messed up in his approach to his daughter.
Viktor might have suggested the current course to protect AIH’s interests and future, but he would not have blindsided Madison with it during a meeting with strangers.
He’d been angry when he realized Jeremy hadn’t even bothered to brief his daughter about the meeting’s agenda before her arrival. She might be flighty and prone to inauspicious, risky behavior, but she deserved more respect than that.
Viktor had no doubts that Jeremy would ultimately get what he wanted, not least of which because Viktor would make it happen.
However he had a nascent suspicion that the personal cost for that success might be higher for Jeremy than the president of Archer International Holdings anticipated.
Madison flicked a glance at the Cartier watch on her wrist. “Your time starts now, Jeremy.”
“Golden Chances Charter School.”
“What about it?” Madison asked with caution, the barest crack in her calm facade finally showing.
“Over the last three years, you have donated tens of thousands of dollars from your Madison Trust income to school improvements and projects.”
“I am aware.”
But Viktor hadn’t been. He began to wonder what else he didn’t know about Madison.
Jeremy’s eyes, the only feature truly like his daughter’s, reflected subtle triumph. “The school’s zoning is under scrutiny.”
“It wasn’t as of yesterday.”
“Things change.”
“I see.” Madison glanced pointedly down at her watch.
“Are you pretending that does not matter to you?”
“No. You have two more minutes.”
Viktor was impressed. Madison would have done a better job negotiating a recent deal with a Japanese conglomerate than the project manager they’d sent to Asia.
Jeremy frowned. “Ramona Grayson.”
“What about her?”
Viktor would be crossing his legs protectively if that tone and look had been directed at him.
“Her father is a drunk,” Jeremy pointed out with well-known derision toward a man Madison had made no bones about considering a second father.
“And mine is a conscienceless bastard. I guess we both lost in the masculine parent lottery, though given a choice I’d pick Harry Grayson. His emotions might be pickled with alcohol, but at least he has them.”
Viktor had seen Madison angry. He’d seen her hurt, embarrassed and even seriously disappointed. He had never