Page 101 of My Big, Fat, Hot Billionaire Enemy
Hammond & Co. could be Enron lite.
Morgan’s words echo in my ears.Things that don’t just bend the rules, they snap them clean in two.
“Oh, Dad,” I whisper, the room seeming to spin.
“I’m sorry, Lucy,” he says, tears welling in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want to… disappoint you more.”
I squeeze his hand, trying to project strength I don’t feel. “We’ll figure it out, Dad. Okay? We’ll figure it out. You just focus on getting better. Don’t think about that now.”
Leaving his room feels like walking through water. My legs are heavy, my mind numb. How do we possibly fix this? SPEs? This could unravel everything. Project Nightingale. Christopher’s investment. Everything.
I walk back towards the waiting area, dread coiling in my stomach. Christopher looks up as I approach, his expression questioning. He stands, waiting.
How can I tell him? How can I admit that the company he’s trying to save, the legacy he’s shown unexpected respect for, is built on foundations that might be rotten to the core? That my father, the man he’s grudgingly agreed to keep on as CEO, might have committedactual fraud?
This changes everything.
He’ll pull the deal. He has to. No sane businessman would touch this now.
And he’ll probably disown me.
I’ll never feel those gorgeous lips of his on my face ever again.
None of it matters though. Only that my dad gets better.
“Lucy?” he asks gently, seeing the devastation on my face.
I open my mouth, but the words won’t come. Where do Ieven start?
‘Hey Christopher, thanks for the support and the revised partnership offer, but funny story, my Dad might be a criminal and Hammond & Co. is potentially built on a house of very illegal cards?’
I can’t do it. I can’t. Maybe when my dad is better. But right now, I can’t deal with this.
He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Is it about the SPEs, Lucy?”
I freeze. My head snaps up. How…?
“How did you know?” I whisper, shocked.
His expression is grim, but his eyes hold… understanding? Not accusation.
“My father,” he says quietly. “He and Morgan Weiss brought the information to me earlier. Proof of the off-balance-sheet entities your father created years ago.”
He knew. He already knew.
“They wanted me to use it,” he continues, his gaze holding mine captive. “Leak it. Force the sale. Ruin your father. Take everything.”
My breath catches. Of course they did. Mark Blackwell’s revenge, served cold and final.
“And?” I barely breathe the word.
“And I told them no,” he states simply. “I told them Project Nightingale proceeds as a partnership. That I wouldn’t use their dirty secrets to destroy Hammond & Co. Or your father.” He pauses, his eyes searching mine intently. “I knew it would hurt you, finding out. I didn’t know when or how to tell you. But Lucy, I wasn’t going to use it against you. Ever.”
He knew the worst, the potentially company-ending, reputation-shattering secret. And he chose not to use it.
He chose partnership.
He chose… me.
