Why does the idea fill me with dread?
“Where?” I ask, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice.
Her hands are shaking a little. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, and I reach out, covering them with mine, pulling her focus back on me.
“Where else?” she whispers. “Sanderson and Nicks.”
My blood runs cold.
He’s still trying to get her to work at the family firm. The dynasty. The altar they planned to sacrifice her on right next to Jamie Nicks.
I don’t like this at all.
“But didn’t you already turn the job down because you didn’t want to marry Jamie?” I roll my eyes at the idea.
If anyone thought Honey and I were going to be with other people, they were reading the wrong story.
She nods slowly. “Yeah. I did turn it down. Jamie took his spot and is interning right now.”
Of course he did. The golden fucking boy with the trust fund jawline.
“So is this your father’s weird way of trying to get you back with Jamie?” I try to sound calm, but every ounce of my being thinks this is a setup. Still, I need to hear her out before I say something.
She shakes her head. “No. This is a different offer. Apparently, he hates Jamie now. Wants him out of the company completely.”
“Wants him out of the company completely? Did he forget the company name is Sanderson &Nicks? Surely it’s a little hard to get rid of the person who literally owns half of it.”
“I’m not sure, but he said if I get in, if I earn enough trust, I could shift the balance. Help him somehow get the majority share.”
I laugh, sharp and bitter. “So the forced engagement didn’t work, and now he wants you to be his corporate Trojan horse? Fuck me. Rich people really do make emotional terrorism an art form.”
She shrugs, barely a whisper of a motion. “Yeah.”
“You said no, right?”
She pauses. Fidgets. Looks up at me with those soft, pleading eyes. The ones that always land like a gut punch.
I sit up straighter. “Honey.” My voice hardens. “You said no, right?”
“His, uh… offer. It’s something I can’t refuse.”
“Like what? Money? Did he offer you money?”
Anxiety builds in my chest because I always knew this could become an issue with us. Not that Honey cares about money—she's never had to—but her family uses it like a weapon, and I haven’t secured NFL level funding yet.
“If it’s about money, then I can give you that. Granted, nowhere near the amount that your parents have right now, but I'm working on it.”
She squeezes my hand, dragging me out of my own spiral. “No. The money he's offering has nothing to do with it.”
“Then what’s so appealing?”
“Tiff.”
The mere mention of her name makes me still.
Of course. Of fucking course. Her father isn’t dangling cash or connections—he’s dangling my cousin’s freedom. My niece’s future.
“He said he'd make the lawsuit disappear, and make sure Tiff gets full custody of Ella. All I have to do is sign a five-year contract with the company.”