“Assuming neither of you has any objection, that is?”

Hudson gave him a quick nod. “That will be fine.”

Allie waited until Hudson stepped away and then placed her hand on the elder gentleman’s forearm. “Thank you, Mr. Weiss.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled, but when his eyes met hers she saw the sadness he hid behind his professional exterior. “And Alessandra, please call me Ben.”

Calling a man she’d known since childhood by his first name felt awkward, but if she had any hope of convincing the board to see her as more than Richard and Victoria Sinclair’s daughter, she had to start acting like it. She returned his smile and lifted her chin. “Thank you, Ben.”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He addressed the room as he moved toward the head of the table. “If you’d like to take a seat, I believe we’re ready to begin.”

One by one the other board members took their seats. Hudson waited until Allie had sat on Ben’s right, then pulled out the chair directly across from hers. She could feel the weight of his stare on her, but kept her focus on the charcoal-gray folder in front of her with the words INGRAM MEDIA embossed in silver across the top. Allie opened it and scanned the typed agenda as Ben thanked everyone for adjusting their busy schedules to accommodate the urgency of the meeting. At the top of the list was the first order of business: Appointment of Temporary CEO. She shouldn’t have been surprised. As a publicly owned company the transition of power had to be swift and seamless.

Allie traced the foil logo at the top of the letterhead with her finger, and all at once the enormity of what was about to take place hit her. This wasn’t just any company, it was her family’s legacy. Her maternal grandfather had started out selling newspapers on a street corner, and by the time of his death had grown Ingram Media into one of the largest companies in the country. Her father had dedicated his life to continuing that growth, expanding their scope far beyond the printed word, first with cable television networks and later into various online platforms.

Now she was the estate’s sole surviving heir, and in a matter of minutes the board would vote on who should man the helm. For the first time in company history, it might not be an Ingram. Despite how much she hated being used as a pawn in her father’s negotiations, her family’s legacy still meant something to Allie. And following in those footsteps on her own terms was a far cry from the fate that had awaited her just a few weeks ago. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to control her own destiny while at the same time carrying out her grandfather’s mission. But would the board back her in her bid or would they side with the man who’d spent the past several months plotting a hostile takeover of this very company? The question was still echoing in her mind when she heard Ben broach a topic that wasn’t on the written agenda.

Julian.

Her head snapped up at the sound of his name, and when it did she met the stare she’d been so carefully trying to avoid. Hudson’s piercing gaze held hers, and in that frozen moment so much passed unsaid between them. Her memories of Julian reflected in his blue eyes, everything from cutting in on their dance to the night Hudson rescued her from his attack.

“As most of you are already aware, Mr. Laurent is no longer with Ingram,” Ben said, tactfully omitting the fact that he was also no longer Allie’s fiancé. The irony was its own form of cruelty. The only obstacle that had stood in their way was gone, but in the end it hadn’t even mattered.

“What’s the fallout?” a distinguished looking African-American gentleman asked from beside her. Allie knew from her research that his name was James Tolman and that he ran one of the largest real estate investment firms in the city.

“Financially, none,” Ben answered. “Luckily, we’re under no obligation since the agreement was terminated from his end.”

Hudson cocked his head to one side in silent question. He knew Julian and the rules of the game well enough to know luck had nothing to do with the man’s sudden decision to relinquish his position. But what he didn’t know was how Allie had mustered every last ounce of strength to call him the night she and Hudson broke up. Confronting Julian in person would have been too risky. Her stomach rolled at the mere thought of looking into the cold eyes that had regarded her with such hatred. And blackmailing her former fiancé wasn’t something she would have likely been able to pull off in person anyway. Hearing his voice had been bad enough, but she’d been angry and hurt, and more than anything else, tired of being pushed around by people who claimed to love her. She’d needed to unleash that anger, and no one was more deserving of the receiving end of that wrath than Julian. He’d been surprised to hear from her, but even more so when she’d laid out her demands. It was simple: get out of Chicago and out of her life. In return she wouldn’t press charges against him for assault and attempted rape. Julian might have lusted for power, but just as she’d suspected, the prospect of time spent in an orange jumpsuit was enough to get him to sever all ties with Ingram.

Allie broke their gaze, feigning interest in a random item on the agenda and making notes in the margin.

“But as you know, Richard had spent the past few months grooming Mr. Laurent to take the reigns after his retirement at the first of the year.”

Her grip on the pen tightened. After his retirement. More like after her December wedding. No matter how she grieved her parents, the anger and resentment she felt toward them was never far from the surface.

“Which of course brings us to the first item on our agenda this morning.” Ben glanced down at the papers in his hands. “With the passing of both Richard and Victoria Sinclair, their estate, along with the majority of Ingram shares, is now controlled by—”

“It’s a slim majority, isn’t that right?” a woman two seats down interrupted. Melanie McCormick. On husband four, or maybe it was five now? Allie couldn’t say for sure. But they’d all had one thing in common: twice her age and at least ten times her original net worth. Not only was Melanie’s trackrecord clear, but so was the unabashed appreciation she seemed to have for the newest addition to Crain’s Top Ten. While she might have been speaking to Ben Weiss, she never took her eyes off Hudson Chase.

“Yes, that’s correct, Melanie. Mr. Chase holds a significant portion as well. Through Chase Industries, that is.”

Someone at the opposite head of the table cleared his throat. Duncan Wentworth, a man with money older than anyone else in the room, and who not only wielded an indisputable influence, but had probably never worked a day in his life. Allie had met him several times at the country club and had never once enjoyed the experience.

“No offense to young Alessandra here,” he said, no doubt making a point to call her by her first name, “but what the hell does she know about running a company?”

Probably as much as you do, Allie wanted to say. But a response to his callous remark came from across the table instead.

“No offense, Duncan?” Hudson asked. “The diplomacy in your remark is offendable. Richard Sinclair obviously had enough confidence in his daughter’s capabilities to leave her his entire estate.” He set his pen down on the documents in front of him and eased back into his chair. “And Miss Sinclair’s work at the Ingram Foundation speaks for itself.”

Wentworth let out a short, harsh laugh. “Planning events is hardly the same as running a multibillion dollar media conglomerate.”

“And being a three percent shareholder doesn’t necessarily qualify you to sit at this table, yet here you are.”

“Gentlemen,” Ben interceded. “Let’s try to stay focused on the issues at hand.”

“While I don’t agree with Duncan’s approach . . .” James shot his fellow board member a terse look. “The fact remains that Miss Sinclair, although quite successful in the endeavors she’s undertaken on behalf of our foundation, has little to no experience in these matters.”