Page 13 of The Forbidden

“You don’t get to order us around.” Wade waggles his eyebrows. “We’re older than you.”

“In age, but not maturity,” I toss back. As I walk by him, I land a solid punch on his arm and he yelps. “Besides, we both know I can kick your asses.”

They howl with laughter because I can’t, but they let me believe it all the same.

“Good night, sis,” Wade says as he rubs his arm.

“Good night,” I reply fondly, giving them a genuine smile. I love my brothers—my entire family—insanely.

And Sylvie with a fierce protectiveness I’ve never known.

It’s why I know that I’m the best one to handle Gabe Mardraggon. Truly, I’m the only one who knows his deepest secrets and if I have to pull them out as leverage to get his compliance, I’ll do it without hesitation.

Even if it means my own downfall.

CHAPTER 6

Gabe

While my Mardraggon ancestors settled in Shelby County, Kentucky, and opened our bourbon distillery in Shelbyville, our main offices have been in Frankfort for the last forty years. My grandfather took advantage of a good land grab as he wanted to expand our footprint and he felt it was important to be nearer to the state’s capital because politics have always been soaked in the alcohol industry.

Mardraggon Enterprises takes up the top three floors of a ten-story building in the historic downtown area that was built in 1906, which has been renovated to suit my father’s particular tastes.

It takes me thirty minutes to drive from my new home to the office, a place I haven’t stepped foot inside of since my father’s arrest. I’ve been working remotely, not because I’m ashamed or hiding out, but because my father has too many people loyal to him and I’ve been working in the shadows.

Dressed in my best bespoke suit, a fresh haircut and ten-thousand-dollar cuff links sparkling at my wrists, I enter the boardroom thirty seconds before the meeting is set to start. I purposely did this to avoid conversation. I have no desire to discuss my father, his arrest or the future of the company with most of the people here. The important conversations have already been conducted via phone or personal visits away from this building.

The Mardraggon Enterprises board of directors numbers a total of eighteen, but only twelve are needed today to carry a vote. My father, Lionel, serves as the chairman of the board, which means he’s actively involved in the day-to-day management of the company and is directly accountable for the company’s performance and reputation. His brother, my uncle Terrance Mardraggon, serves as the chief executive officer, a role that would normally provide insights into the company’s everyday operations, challenges and strategic direction, but good old Uncle Terrance is a bit of a doormat, so my father also covers most of those functions. I’m the chief operations officer, responsible for managing the administrative and operational functions of the business, and I’ve served in this role for the past three years. Prior to that, I was the vice president of operations.

What do all these titles mean?

Probably not much after this meeting concludes.

My eyes immediately lock onto my father, sitting in the largest leather chair at the end of the massive table that seats twenty-five. Terrance sits to his left and my seat is normally to his right.

Lionel looks like he’s aged ten years in the two weeks since his arrest. I haven’t seen him in person and only saw a glimpse of him on the nightly news when he got out of jail on bond a week ago. But that’s not to say he looks frail. His jaw is set in a hard line and his eyes are glacial as they bore into me. I let my gaze slide to Terrance who quickly looks away.

Everyone in this room knows what we’re doing here because I called the special meeting under the bylaws of the corporation. Everyone moves to an empty seat and I glance around at the various members—our chief financial officer, C-level executives who head up operations, marketing and human resources, and a roster of independent directors who are not part of the company’s day-to-day management but rather have been chosen for their expertise in relevant fields such as finance, business strategy, law and international markets. There are other members of the board who weren’t invited today, mainly because they don’t have voting rights. But every one of the twelve members present will have the right to cast their choice regarding the direction of this company.

I don’t take the seat next to my father but rather the one on the opposite end of the table, a massive slab of dark polished wood. I feel the weight of ancestral eyes from the portraits lining the walls, not nearly as heavy as the gazes from all the people now staring at me.

Half expecting my father to lodge an objection, I don’t wait for him to take the opening. Instead, I draw first blood by giving him a polite incline of my head. “I’m glad your house arrest orders allow you to attend this meeting.”

It’s a stinging reminder that he’s in a free fall from grace.

“This meeting is a farce,” he growls.

Leaning back slightly, I interlace my fingers in front of me, maintaining my composed demeanor. “It’s allowed under the bylaws,” I reply coolly. “And no one provided any objection once the meeting was noticed, also required by the bylaws. You didn’t even bother to object.” My eyes briefly meet each board member’s before settling back on my father, challenging him silently.

“I’m objecting now,” he says, slamming a fist down on the table. Uncle Terrance jumps in his seat.

I glance over at Christian Radcliffe, a non-voting member of the board who is here to advise us on legalities. I lift an eyebrow and he says, “If objection is not lodged within twenty-four hours of notice, it is deemed waived.”

My father mutters curses at his end of the table and I ignore him. “As you know, I noticed this meeting of the shareholders and I’d like the record to reflect that we have twelve members here today with voting privileges, which is a proper quorum.” It’s absolutely astounding to me that had my dad not shown up today, there would not have been enough people to allow for a vote but I know his ego wasn’t about to let him miss this. He thinks he’s going to be able to control everyone here.

“I am making a motion to remove Lionel Mardraggon from his role as chairman of the board and to prevent him from having any seat on this board of directors in either a voting or non-voting capacity. My reasoning is simple… he cannot be trusted to make good decisions for this company when he’s already shown to exhibit not only poor but reprehensible judgment. On top of that, our company cannot afford the damage to our reputation if we allow him to remain involved.”

Clara Bennett, our company’s chief financial officer and a third cousin of my father’s, with her steel-gray hair impeccably coiffed, eyes me with skepticism. Michael Forbes, the youngest board member, offers a nod of support, his sleek, modern look a contrast to Clara’s traditional attire. My eyes roam around the table and I note some folks look at me in support while others don’t meet my eyes at all.

---