Liam leaped from his seat and excitedly shook his father-in-law’s hand. “Thank you so much, sir.”
Victor shrugged. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my little girl. You have my consent to marry her, so get out of here and make it right between you two.”
Liam’s eyes widened as he nodded. There was no arguing with Victor Orr, even if he wanted to. “Thank you again,” he said as he turned and bolted from their hotel suite.
As badly as he wanted to rush to find Francesca, he had one other stop to make. Fortunately, that stop was located in the same hotel.
Liam rang the doorbell at the penthouse suite and waited for Henry to answer the door. The older man arrived a few minutes later, welcoming Liam with the same smile and nod he’d always received.
“Come in, Liam. I don’t believe she’s expecting you this morning. We’re packing to return to New York.”
“I’m sorry to pop in unannounced, Henry, but I need to talk to my aunt. It’s important.”
Henry held out his hand to gesture toward the bedroom. Liam didn’t wait for him, moving quickly across the carpet and around the corner.
Aunt Beatrice looked up as he charged in. She was sitting in her wheelchair folding her clothes. “Liam,” she said. “I expected you to be off somewhere basking in wedded bliss.”
“No, you didn’t,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. “You and I have been playing a dangerous game that could end up doing nothing but hurting people.”
She didn’t bother acting offended by his insinuation. “I did what I thought was best for the family. And for you, despite what you might think.”
“I know,” Liam agreed. “And I came here to thank you.”
That, at last, got a rise out of the Queen Bee. She sat up straight in her chair, her eyes narrowing at him in confusion. “Thank me?”
“Yes. If you hadn’t forced me to get married, I might’ve let Francesca walk right out of my life. I love her. And I hope she stays married to me for forty years—not for the network, or because of your demands, but because I want us to grow old together. That said, I’m not going to let you control me any longer. I don’t need your ANS stock or you holding it over my head. I now have enough backing to maintain control of ANS without your shares or your billions. I don’t care about any inheritance.”
Aunt Beatrice sat silently for a few minutes, absorbing his words. After a while, he began to wonder if she was mentally going over the new changes to her will. He didn’t care. Cut him out. Cut him loose.
“Those,” she said at last, “are the words of a man who can take charge of this family.” Beatrice smiled softly to herself and placed a blouse in her suitcase. “It’s what I’ve been waiting for. I never intended to sell my stock to Ron Wheeler. I just wanted to see you settled down, in control and happy with your place in life. Francesca is the right woman for you. I knew that just as certainly as I knew you two were pretending. In time, I figured things would work out between you. Once you both stopped fighting it. It’s a shame I’ll be dead before I can see you two genuinely happy together.”
“You knew we were faking the relationship?”
“It takes a smart, observant person to head this family. Very little gets past me, even now. But it’s okay. I’m sorry for meddling in your private life. Blackmail really isn’t my forte, but I did what I thought I needed to for the good of you and the family. I’ll call my stockbroker this afternoon and have the shares of ANS transferred to you.”
“What? Now?” He had years and millions to pay off before he owned those shares outright.
“It’s your wedding present. Most people don’t give networks as gifts, but you’re not the typical bride and groom.”
Liam reached out and took his aunt’s hand. It was something he rarely did; she wasn’t very affectionate, but he was seeing the dents in her armor. Her illness was revealing the person inside that she kept hidden. “Thank you, Aunt Beatrice.”
She turned her head, dismissing his sentiment with a wave of her hand, but he could see a moist shimmer in her eyes. “It will be thanks enough when you save that company and take over handling our motley crew of relatives when I’m gone.”
“Do I really have to be executor of the estate?”
“Absolutely. And don’t worry. Eventually, you will grow accustomed to the constant ass-kissing.”
*
Francesca left ANS early. She’d been a self-imposed prisoner in her office all morning, afraid she’d run into Liam in the hallway. She had had a few days to sit at home alone, licking her wounds, but she wasn’t ready to see him again. Especially knowing that everyone still expected them to be a happy, newly married couple.