Chapter 17: What It Cost

Douglas's POV

The shipping line kept its offices on the twentieth floor of a glass tower by the river.

I went at eight in the morning without an appointment.

The assistant at the desk told me the chairman was in a meeting, and I told her I would sit.

I sat for forty minutes.

When I finally walked in, the chairman stood behind a very large desk and held out his hand.

"Douglas. You've heard the news about your fiancee. I'm sorry for it."

I did not take his hand.

"Four years ago a lab clerk was paid to type a false report," I said. "The money came out of your account."

His hand lowered.

"I don't know what you've been told."

"Philip Kingsbury's driver has the bank record. He has a signed statement from the clerk."

"That's a misunderstanding."

"You paid for it so Felicity would own Kingsbury shares."

I kept my voice level.

"She was supposed to sign her voting stock over to you."

He looked at me.

He was a man who had run a company for thirty years, and he did not blink.

"What do you want?" he said.

"Nothing. I'm here to cancel."

The room went quiet.

Our contract with his line was forty percent of Lowell Freight's yearly work.

It was my father's contract before it was mine.

"Be careful," the chairman said. "I can make that costly."

"I know exactly what it costs."

"Four hundred drivers, Douglas."

"I know how many drivers I have."

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