An Heiress for His Empire

If Jeremy had evinced even one iota of the concern Viktor knew the older man felt for his daughter’s current predicament, she would be reacting very differently. But then if father and daughter got along perfectly, or even very well, Viktor’s own plans would by necessity be very different.

“You know, I never even entertained the fantasy that you called me to help me, to take my side for once, to protect me because I mattered to you.” The beautiful redhead offered the emotionally laden words in a flat tone Viktor almost envied.

She would be one hell of a poker player.

She was lying, though. Madison wouldn’t have shown up if she didn’t think her father would help her.

“You never were a child taken with fairy tales,” Jeremy said.

Viktor could have reined in the older man’s prideful idiocy, but that wouldn’t further his own agenda. However, he felt an unexpected pang of guilt at Madison’s barely there flinch and flash of pain in the azure depths of her eyes.

She recovered quickly, her expression smooth—almost bored. “No, that was always Mom’s department. She lived under the fallacy that you cared about us. I know better.”

It was Jeremy’s turn to flinch and he wasn’t as fast at hiding his reaction as his daughter, but then he had to be in shock. Madison didn’t go for the jugular like that. In fact, in all the arguments between the tycoon and his daughter Viktor had been privy to, he’d never heard Madison use her mother’s memory against her father before.

No triumph at the emotional bloodletting showed on Madison’s porcelain features.

Instead, she looked like she wanted nothing more than to get up and walk away. The fact she stayed in her seat was proof the heiress might be criminally flagrant in her personal life, but she wasn’t stupid.

She knew her father well enough to be aware that Jeremy’s arsenal of threats wasn’t empty.

“You have five minutes.” Madison’s words verified she did indeed realize her father had more encouragement to lay on the table, but also that she had little patience in waiting to find out what it was.

Color washed over Jeremy’s face. “Excuse me?”

“She wants the other two prongs to the pitchfork,” Viktor informed his boss.

Jeremy’s scowl said he knew that’s what she’d meant, but he didn’t like the time limit or implied ultimatum that Madison would get up and leave if it wasn’t met.

“Pitchfork?” Black asked.

Viktor could have answered, but he didn’t. Giving Maxwell Black any kind of information wasn’t on his agenda for the day. Viktor had ignored the presence of the other candidates at the table as superfluous, and planned to continue to do so.

Madison wasn’t so reticent. “Jeremy never enters a fight he isn’t sure he can win. To that end, he stacks the deck. He’ll have three scenarios in the offing, none of which will I want to eventuate.”

“You call your father by his first name?” Black asked.

Madison flicked a meaning-laden glance in the tycoon’s direction. “As he pointed out, I’m the not the one in the family to wallow in sentimental fantasy.”

What she didn’t say was that until that morning, Madison had called Jeremy Archer Father and sometimes even Dad. That she would no longer do so could be taken from her words as a given.

No question that the company president had seriously messed up in his approach to his daughter.

Viktor might have suggested the current course to protect AIH’s interests and future, but he would not have blindsided Madison with it during a meeting with strangers.

He’d been angry when he realized Jeremy hadn’t even bothered to brief his daughter about the meeting’s agenda before her arrival. She might be flighty and prone to inauspicious, risky behavior, but she deserved more respect than that.

Viktor had no doubts that Jeremy would ultimately get what he wanted, not least of which because Viktor would make it happen.

However he had a nascent suspicion that the personal cost for that success might be higher for Jeremy than the president of Archer International Holdings anticipated.

Madison flicked a glance at the Cartier watch on her wrist. “Your time starts now, Jeremy.”

“Golden Chances Charter School.”

“What about it?” Madison asked with caution, the barest crack in her calm facade finally showing.

“Over the last three years, you have donated tens of thousands of dollars from your Madison Trust income to school improvements and projects.”

“I am aware.”

But Viktor hadn’t been. He began to wonder what else he didn’t know about Madison.

Jeremy’s eyes, the only feature truly like his daughter’s, reflected subtle triumph. “The school’s zoning is under scrutiny.”

“It wasn’t as of yesterday.”

“Things change.”

“I see.” Madison glanced pointedly down at her watch.

“Are you pretending that does not matter to you?”

“No. You have two more minutes.”

Viktor was impressed. Madison would have done a better job negotiating a recent deal with a Japanese conglomerate than the project manager they’d sent to Asia.

Jeremy frowned. “Ramona Grayson.”

“What about her?”

Viktor would be crossing his legs protectively if that tone and look had been directed at him.

“Her father is a drunk,” Jeremy pointed out with well-known derision toward a man Madison had made no bones about considering a second father.

“And mine is a conscienceless bastard. I guess we both lost in the masculine parent lottery, though given a choice I’d pick Harry Grayson. His emotions might be pickled with alcohol, but at least he has them.”

Viktor had seen Madison angry. He’d seen her hurt, embarrassed and even seriously disappointed. He had never seen her this coldly furious.

The Madison that Viktor had known for ten years was in no way reflected in the harshly dismissive woman in front of them.

Despite the implication of her words, she loved her father. In the past, she hadn’t been able to hide her need for his attention and approval. Her mistake had always been how she went about getting it.

She’d followed in her mother’s footsteps, not realizing Jeremy Archer had been too traumatized by the loss of his wife to want to see her audacious nature reflected in their only child.

“Do you think Ramona sees it that way?” Jeremy asked. “Or perhaps she would prefer a father not lost in a bottle.”

Madison shrugged. “It’s not something we discuss.”