Hudson Chase was out of her life. For good this time.

“I’ll call my friend Harper,” Allie said.

“She’s not a redhead by any chance, is she?”

“Yes, why?”

“She saved you the trouble of a call.” He smiled weakly. “She’s been raising hell at the barricades for the past hour.”

Yep, that would be Harper. “Would you mind bringing her around back to the garage and having the car meet us there? I really don’t want to deal with the crowds out front.”

“Of course. And I’ll see that both your cars are returned to the city in the morning.”

Allie stood. “Thank you for . . .” Her voice trailed off. She knew she’d never get through the rest of that sentence.

His eyes crinkled and he gave a quick nod. “There is one more item we need to discuss before you go.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid not. Although I imagine some of the press corps will leave once they realize you’re no longer in the house, a few will remain until a statement is released. I can have the PR department draft something from the company as a whole, or you can certainly write your own if you’d prefer. There’s also the matter of an internal memo to your employees, but we can address that tomorrow.”

“My employees?” What in the world is he talking about?

He met her confused expression with one of his own. After a moment the crease in his brow relaxed. “Forgive me, I thought you realized.” His voice was soothing yet firm. “As you know, your mother and father were both heavily invested in Ingram.”

This wasn’t news. In fact, for decades the company her maternal grandfather built from the ground up had been privately owned. It wasn’t until a rough patch in the late seventies that her father had been forced to take the company public, but even then the family had retained controlling interest.

“As the sole heir to their estate, those shares are now yours. Alessandra, you are the new majority shareholder of Ingram Media.”

Allie rubbed her forehead. She hadn’t even considered the effect her parents’ death would have on the family business, let alone what role she’d play. Hundreds of questions raced through her mind, but the pounding in her head was making it hard to focus.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re tired. We can hold off on everything else until tomorrow and just release a statement from the company tonight. I’ll have the PR team draft something, and if you prefer I can run it by Mr. Chase.”

Allie’s head snapped up. Hudson? Why in the hell would he run it past him? She realized the answer just as Mr. Weiss began to explain.

“Over the past few months there have been various investment groups quietly purchasing shares of Ingram. It wasn’t until recently that we realized these purchases were on behalf of one individual.

“How this will impact day-to-day operations remains to be seen. A fair amount of shares are still held in smaller quantities by numerous individuals, but Mr. Chase’s most recent acquisitions make him the second largest shareholder outside of the Sinclair/Ingram estate.” He exhaled a heavy sigh. “We can discuss this more at length after we get through the next few days. I don’t want to overwhelm you right now.”

Too late. “Okay.”

“I’ll go find your friend.” He gave her arm an awkward pat before turning toward the door. A question popped into her mind as she watched him walk away. It seemed ridiculous in light of what was happening all around her, but for some inexplicable reason, she needed to know.

“Mr. Weiss?” she called out before he reached the foyer.

He turned to face her. “Yes?”

Allie took a deep breath. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe she could limit their interaction. “What’s the margin?”

“Pardon me?”

“The difference in stock percentages, between me and . . .” Her voice caught on his name. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What’s the difference in stock percentages between . . .”

Damn it. Why couldn’t she get the words to come out of her mouth?

“Between you and Mr. Chase?”

She nodded.

“One percent.”

The weight of the day crashed down around her and Allie sank to the couch. On top of everything else, it seemed Hudson Chase was her new business partner.

Chapter Two

Allie barely looked at the two caskets during the morning service at Fourth Presbyterian Church. Instead she kept her attention focused on the pastor as he spoke of eternal life, the organist as she played hymns to accompany the choir, or the specks of dust that drifted across the rainbow of light streaming through the stained glass windows. Anything and everything to avoid facing the reality of why they were there. Even as she stood at the podium to address five hundred strangers, she somehow managed to convince herself it wasn’t real. The two people she eulogized weren’t her parents. They were a businessman and his philanthropic wife, not her and father and mother. Not the only family she had in the world.

But as she sat under a tent in the first row of wooden folding chairs, it was impossible to avoid the two mahogany caskets lying side by side in front of her. The smell from the cascade of lilies draped over the top was almost smothering despite the crisp November breeze. And the sight of them, perched above a discreetly covered but freshly dug grave, was a brutal reminder of her loss. Both her parents were dead, gunned down in their own home by what the police were suspecting was a random act of violence. She knew it was ridiculous to think of herself as an orphan at her age, and yet that’s exactly how she felt. It didn’t matter that she was twenty-seven years old; her parents were gone, and she’d never felt more alone.

Her grief over the past few days had been overwhelming, an almost debilitating sadness woven with a rage that burned deep within her. She suspected it was that rage that kept her moving forward. The idea that each day might bring a new lead was the only thing getting her out of bed when she woke from a fitful sleep filled with gruesome images. But she wasn’t just angry with the shooter, she was angry with her parents. They were gone and now she’d never get the chance to confront them, to tell them she was done living by the unwritten code of the Ingram-Sinclair empire. She’d never have the chance to tell them how angry she was with them for attempting to control her life. How much she hated them for trying to manipulate her into marrying Julian. How hurt she was by the endless stream of lies. Or how no matter what, deep down they were still her parents and she loved them.

Her body shook with a silent sob.

Harper reached for Allie’s hand and squeezed it tight. “Are you okay?” she whispered from beside her.

Allie met her friend’s concerned gaze with watery eyes and gave a small nod. Harper had been a near constant presence in Allie’s life since storming the barricades the night of the murders. She’d insisted Allie stay at her apartment, an offer that proved to be a godsend when their driver reached Astor Place only to find the entire block filled with news vans and satellites. Harper had braved the media frenzy alone, leaving Allie cocooned behind the limo’s tinted glass while she gathered items from the brownstone. And that was only the beginning. Whether sitting beside her as she selected headstones or hovering in the kitchen while she met with detectives, Harper had seen Allie through what had arguably been the worst five days of her life. There was no way Allie could have made it through the ordeal without Harper, and she would be grateful to her for the rest of her life.