I stood frozen, unable to make sense of her words.
Clay had his own company. How could he have become chairman of mine?
And when, exactly, had he gotten his hands on the shares...
"Margery, last month your family lost a core client. Then the downstream payments stopped coming in, revenue collapsed, and morale had already been crumbling for weeks."
"On top of that, your father died without warning, and the rumors were everywhere. People kept saying Avalon was finished, so a lot of shareholders started dumping their stock at rock-bottom prices. I'm the one who scooped it all up in time."
Reading the confusion on my face, Clay rose and smoothed his collar.
"I hold forty percent of the shares now. That's more than your father left you. The board is made up of smart people, and they know who can actually take this company somewhere better."
"I can bring back the core clients, recover the unpaid balances, and offer them even higher returns on top of it all."
He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"But what about you, Margery? What could you possibly give them? Your tears?"
"You're a delicate little flower raised in a greenhouse. Your father sheltered you too well. A good girl like you doesn't understand the first thing about running a company. How could you survive the bloodbath of the business world?"
"Be good. From now on you just stay home and enjoy the easy life, collect your dividends at the end of the year. As for the entertaining and the social functions out there, I've got Priscilla with me. She's far better suited to that kind of thing than you."
A tremor I couldn't stop ran through my whole body.
I might not understand business, but I wasn't a fool.
Yesterday Clay had let his contempt for my father slip, and he had always been a man with ambition.
Every single one of these moves bore his fingerprints.
Yet watching him paint himself so casually as some kind of savior, my heart still cramped with pain.
Senior year of college, my classmates and I went to play at a small shooting club nearby.
One of the guys, someone who had once confessed to me and gotten turned down, sneered.
"Well, look at the good little girl, daring to touch a gun. You even know how? Don't go wetting yourself. By the time you're begging to be with me, I'll think you're too dirty to bother with."
That was when Clay appeared.
He guided my hands and fired nine shots in a row. Nine bulls-eyes, dead center every time.
On the tenth shot, the muzzle suddenly swung around and pointed straight at the boy's head.
I was scared out of my mind, but I still knocked the barrel aside fast. The bullet grazed past his ear.
The boy went white with terror, a dark stain spreading across his pants, the stench rising off him.
Clay lowered his gaze and laughed softly.
"See that? Now it's trash like you, who only bullies the weak and cowers before the strong, who should be thanking someone else for being sweet and kind."
When I asked why he'd helped me, he winked and said, half teasing,
"Ever read a fairy tale? A sweet little princess always has a knight to protect her."
We got together after that, and he really did make me feel safe.
But reality isn't a fairy tale.
In the end, the sword in the knight's hand swung down on the princess.
I clenched my fists, letting my nails dig into my palms.
"Clay, I'd rather die than be your mistress."
Before he could say a word, Priscilla took my arm, smoothing things over.
"Silly Margery, stop being so stubborn. We're doing this to protect you."
"Everyone knows Clay's been sleeping with you for five years and that you can't have children anymore. What decent family would ever want you... You're better off with him. At least we won't mistreat you. I honestly don't mind you being the mistress."
Priscilla's family had always favored sons over daughters. Back then, her brother had shown up wanting to drag her off by force and sell her to some old man in the countryside as a wife.
When I went to pull her free, a knife went into my womb, and I lost the ability to bear children for good.
If Clay hadn't arrived with help when he did, I might not even have survived.
