Page 29 of Exposed

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Madison was in her most serious black-on-black suit, conveying both the gravity of the situation as well as armoring up for what could be one hell of a fight. Paco had insisted on joining her, but she’d been firm that she had to do it alone. In Conference Room 214, Madison calmed her nerves by reminiscing about Alex teaching her self-defense moves, right from the spot she was standing. Here goes nothing.

She took a seat at the head of the table, when the door burst open. Frank Seaver looked every bit the slithering snake Madison recalled him to be. “My dear, you look ravishing. And perfectly suited at the head of the table, where the CEO should be.” He went up to greet her, and as he attempted a kiss on her cheek, she firmly extended her arm for a handshake, ensuring her personal space was overtly maintained. Seaver smiled, and instead kissed her hand. He hadn’t quite released it, when she insistently pulled it back. “Now, my dear, is that any way to treat the man you’re getting into bed with?”

She pushed down the rising bile in her throat. “Oh, I’m not getting into bed with you, Mr. Seaver. Figuratively or otherwise.” She motioned her hand abruptly, indicating he could have a seat. Once he did, she clasped her hands stoically on the conference table. “I’m here to tell you that you don’t have a deal, and you don’t have my vote. I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, but there’s nothing here for you.”

“Ms. Taylor, if that’s your position, very well, then.” But Madison knew Seaver’s reputation much better than that; he wouldn’t let go without more of a tussle. “Let me ask you something, Ms. Taylor. It must be difficult living with the guilt.”

She knew he was baiting her, but she had to bite. “What guilt would that be, Mr. Seaver?”

“Oh, the guilt that your brother sold out his country for a few measly dollars.”

Madison’s rage always came out in the worst possible way. Tears. She bit her cheek to keep from crying. “That’s a lie.”

“Well, maybe, but I’ve got friends that tell me his treason was covered up. Or at least, they’ll say whatever I want them to say. Oh, I might not have proof exactly, but a few hungry reporters and a senator or two in my pocket, and I can make this the exposé of the century.”

“What do you want?” Madison demanded. “I told you, I don’t have any shares to help your proxy vote.”

“You don’t now, but you will.” He took out a contract and placed it before her. “I’m going to make this so easy for you. All you have to do is sign this, and you’ll be a multi-millionaire. It says that you’re signing over all your shares to me. Between your contract and mine, that’s all I need.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something? Alex Drake would have had to lie to make this a valid contract. He has never lied to me.”

“Well, when you sign the contract that I just gave you, it implies he did. It’s enough for me to make my move. Drake will be left with two choices: a scandal or a buyout. I’m guessing he’ll take the buyout. Oh, and your brother Jack can rest in peace. See? Win, win, win.” He handed her a Mont Blanc pen. “Now, wouldn’t you like an ending where everybody wins?”

Madison considered his sleazebag offer. She thought of what Jack would have wanted. And her father. She thought of Paco, and everything he did for Jack. And then she thought of Alex, and how he suggested taking whatever golden parachute buyout was offered—a potential exit strategy. Alluding to it being preferred at one point. Finally, she looked at Seaver as she let her fingers brush his pen. She picked it up.

“Mr. Seaver, why don’t you shove this pen right up your ass. No matter what you threaten me with, I’m not signing. Do what you will.” She tossed the pen on the table and stood to leave when she noticed the door had started to open.

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