“I look out for Grayson’s interest and I can’t allow a merger with Knight without knowing Chance’s true colors. Your plan is my plan. Consider this our thumbs up.”
Merger?
My brother is merging with Bennett Enterprises? No. I’m not understanding. Clearly, I’m not understanding what is happening. He wouldn’t do that. Dad wouldn’t allow that and dad might be dead, but Chance’s attempt to buy the castle proves he’s still following his directives.
“The sooner the better,” Jax says. “We all need to know what Chance Knight is made of.”
“No one more than Emma Knight,” Eric says. “But despite your reasoning for doing so, which she’d eventually understand, are you prepared for her reaction to this plan of yours? Stripping Chance of his company is a big step.”
“If he’s the man I fear he is, then it will be in better hands when it’s done.”
I blanch. Stripping him of the company? Is he serious? Did I really just hear what I think I heard? Anger surges inside me, and I step forward. “Your hands, Jax?” I demand. “Please tell me I’m misunderstanding because I really need to hear that I’m misunderstanding you right now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jax
My father used to say that trust is earned, and once earned, it’s fragile, so treat it with care. Despite good intentions, I did not treat Emma’s trust with care today and I am desperate to make that right. “Emma—”
“Answer me, Jax,” she orders, pointing at me. “Are you trying to take over my family business?”
“I should go and let you two talk this out,” Eric says.
“Oh no,” Emma says, pointing at him now. “You stay. I want to know what your role in this is.”
“Talk to me, Emma,” I plead. “This is not what you’re assuming it is. Trust me.”
“Did you really just say that to me?” She demands. “Don’t answer. You did just say that to me. Both of you start talking. Two mouths are better than one,” she waves a finger between us. “Now. Both of you, talk.”
Savage steps into the mix of things. “Who’s fighting who right now?”
“Go away, Savage,” Emma snaps and looks at me. “Tell him—”
“Savage,” I warn.
“All right, all right,” he says. “I’ll be holding up a wall nearby.” Thank fuck, he’s smart enough to leave.
Emma turns her attention to Eric. “What is your role in this?”
I try to save Eric. “His name is Eric—”
“Mitchell,” Emma supplies. “I know my competition. He’s some sort of genius savant and right-hand to Grayson Bennett. What is your role in all of this?”
“Whatever you and Jax decide it should be,” Eric says. “Talk to Jax, as I’d want my wife to do with me.”
“I’m not his wife,” she bites out as if it’s an appalling idea, and that hits hard. “And,” she adds, “if I was, and he left me out of this conversation, we’d be divorcing.”
“You’re not his wife, yet,” Eric says. “Listen to what he has to say.” He eyes me. “We leave for the airport in two hours. If you can ride along to finish this conversation, great. If not, call me.” He nods at Emma. “I hope to get to know you soon.” On that, Eric walks away.
“When you take over our company?” Emma demands at his departing back.
Eric doesn’t reply, but I do. I close the space between us and catch her arm. “Emma.”
She whirls around to face me, shoving a hand in my chest, her green eyes alight with fire. “Let go.”
“Never. Haven’t you figured that out? I’m not letting you go. Not without a fight. Come with me someplace private.”
“Talk here. Talk now.”
I don’t give her time to fight me. I turn her and press her against the wall, my legs caging her legs. “Do you trust me?”
She presses her palms to my chest, ready to push, but my one comfort is that she doesn’t. Yet. “I thought I did,” she declares.
“Do you trust me?”
“I thought I did.”
“Damn it. I did not betray you, Emma. I told you there were things we needed to talk about.”
“Oh really? So, you were going to tell me that you were stealing our company in some sort of hostile takeover with one of our biggest competitors?”
“That is not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
I push off the wall. “Not here. I don’t like the way this castle breeds the unexpected, like that note left for you.” I offer her my hand. “Come with me to my tower where I know we have privacy. Let me explain.”
“Do you really think there is any version of a story you can tell me that I’ll be able to live with?”
“Yes. The truth, Emma.”
In rejection of my hands, she folds her arms in front of her. “Right. The truth.”
“The truth that I intended to tell you tonight,” I say, settling my hands on my hips, “before I did anything final, and after I knew the full plan. Come to our tower. We can talk freely there.”