Margaret did not sit down. She reached into her designer handbag and withdrew a single piece of paper, placing it flat on the mahogany table.
It was a blue printed check from the Rowan family trust account, drawn on Austin First National.
“Eighty million dollars,” Margaret said, her voice dropping into a slow, patrician cadence. “It is more than double what your prenuptial agreement dictates, Claire. It is a clean exit from both the marriage and the board of Rowan Meridian.”
I looked down at the blue ink of the eighty-million-dollar check. The signature at the bottom was Margaret’s, written in her sharp, tall cursive.
“My father founded Rowan Meridian,” I said, keeping my fingers flat against my sides. “My voting shares are not for sale.”
“Your father is gone, and the company requires a clear line of succession,” Margaret replied. She tapped her platinum ring against the polished wood of the table. “The trust agreement is very specific about the birth of a male heir. Your fifty-one percent is about to become a minority holding.”
Evan nodded quickly, his eyes bright with a strange, nervous energy. “The lawyers have already drafted the amendment, Claire. It is a done deal. You can take the eighty million and buy a place in Aspen, or you can let the board vote you out.”
Leah stood near the doorway, holding one of the carriers. She did not look at me, keeping her eyes fixed on the oriental rug.
“The amendment requires my signature,” I said.
“We have other avenues if you choose to be difficult,” Margaret said. “But this check is on the table today. Tomorrow, the offer drops by half.”
I reached out, my fingers barely touching the cool paper of the check, and pushed it back across the mahogany table until it rested near Margaret’s handbag.
“I am going upstairs to pack a bag,” I said.
