Page 40 of Ireland

“Ireland,” her mother said bitingly, snapping her back to attention. “Your father and brother weren’t thinking of you when they dragged you into this mess; you can’t think of them now. If you don’t want Vidal for yourself, for god’s sake, don’t sink your money into it! You can sell your shares and do something else with your life.”

Unbidden, she thought of Ronan, and her panic eased ever so slightly. She was planning to tell him who she really was during lunch anyway, and once she did, she could ask for his advice. This situation was in his wheelhouse.

But she suddenly grasped how scary that option was. God help her if she everneededhim and came to depend upon him—a man who’d proven capable of walking away and avoiding her calls. Better to lean on Gideon, even if she sincerely hated having to approach him with anything unpleasant. Her brother would take on the burden without a single word of complaint. But her mother was right: he shouldn’t have to.

“You’ll need to decide,” Elizabeth stated firmly. “And soon. I want to divest my shares before they’re worthless.”

Over an hour later, as Ireland left her mother’s and slid into the back of a waiting rideshare, she knew she was in some stage of shock. Still, she and her mom had managed to discuss all sorts of mundane topics at length, although she could hardly remember any of them. Chatting about nothing had given her mind a brief reprieve, but she didn’t have time to bury her head in the sand. She had to know what they were up against to make an informed decision about what to do.

Her purse vibrated against her hip, and she jumped, her nerves stretched to the limit. She dug for her phone, pulling it out in time to catch the incoming call. The photo of Ronan and his black cat on her screen was possibly the only thing—aside from Alina—that could make her feel anything remotely pleasant.

“Hey,” she answered breathlessly. “I’m sorry. I was supposed to text you. I…uh…I got tied up and forgot.”

“What’s wrong?” Ronan asked sharply. “You sound upset.”

“Nothing,” she answered reflexively, then caught herself. She groaned. “Everything. I’ll fill you in when I see you. Are you at the hotel? I can meet you there, and we’ll decide where we’re going.”

“Yes, I’m at the Vidal. When will you get here? I’ll meet you downstairs.”

It was disconcerting hearing her name spoken in his voice. “I’m on the way now. I’ll share my trip, so you’ll know when I’m close.” With a few quick taps in the app, she did just that.

“C’est bon.” A moment later, he added, “I see you.”

“I can’t wait to seeyou,” she replied with feeling.

They hung up, and Ireland let her head fall back against the headrest. It felt strange and disorienting not to be aimless, which made her realize that she’d always been precisely that. She had always done what was expected of her. Now, she had choices to make and a direction to set. Was she even capable of leading when she’d always followed?

At least her mother thought she was.

She replayed their conversation in her mind, picking through the minefield of information for anything that might help her decide what to do. She and Christopher had to talk, but when? She’d always presumed he would take over their father’s role when the time came, but she’d also believed he was capable of doing so. Was he not? Was he too much like their father in that regard?

If Christopher couldn’t be trusted to run it, was it up to her to hold it together? Until when? When his children took over? That would be damn near a lifetime commitment.

Straightening with a gasp, Ireland fumbled for her phone again, and speed-dialed her mother.

“Well, that was quick,” Elizabeth answered.

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me.”

“Good. You should be.”

Ireland glanced into the cab beside her at the traffic light, her gaze briefly meeting that of the suited businessman in the backseat who was also on his phone. “You said thesharkshad scented blood. Is there more than one loan?”

Was it evenpossibleto save Vidal? She held back a groan.

“No, there’s just the one loan. I was referring to one of the other shareholders, who somehow caught wind of what was happening. They approached me with a generous offer, which has grown more attractive the longer I resist selling to them.”

Ireland sat bolt upright, her pulse leaping back into a frantic rhythm.The list and documents she’d found in her father’s desk drawer… Her nausea returned. “Who was it?”

“McCaffrey Holdings. I was going to suggest them to you if you decide to sell because they’re willing to pay.”

“Jesus. Thanks. I’ve got to go.” Hanging up, she slid forward in the seat. “I’m changing my destination in the app,” she told the driver urgently. “It’s just a couple of blocks from where I was originally going.”

He looked at her in the rearview mirror. “No problem.”

She remembered checking her father’s calendar. He was meeting with McCaffrey—she checked the time on her phone—now!Panic tightened her throat.

“Get me there as fast as you can,” she said huskily, “and I’ll tip you double the fare.”

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