Chapter 249

In front of the partition screen, a large table had been assembled, with rows of chairs on either side, facing each other. We took our side, and Senior and his team of lawyers took theirs. There were so many lawyers that many of them had to stand.

Senior sat across from Logan, though his glare of distain was fixed on Mr. Hudgens. Mr. Hudgens seemed entirely unaffected by such a fearsome look.

“I did not expect to ever see you again, Walter,” Senior said.

“You should have known better, Richard,” Mr. Hudgens replied. “I have grandchildren now.”

“Then you shouldn’t want to expose these skeletons,” Senior said. “When your grandchildren discover the kind of man you truly are, they will hate you.”

“My grandchildren will know that I was a man who made mistakes, but that I fought to make amends, to make myself a better man. They will learn from my errors, to jump straight to being a good man, without all these middle steps. Above all, I will teach them that the villain is the man who doesn’t change for the better.”

Senior scoffed. “You always were a pushover, Walter.”

“We’ll see if you still feel that way after this meeting,” Mr. Hudgens said.

“Shall we start,” Mr. Smith said, voice calm and steady, expression entirely indifferent. “Mr. Hatfield has read through your affidavits and wishes to keep them quiet. In exchange for each of these individuals signing NDA’s, he will allow you to stay with your wife, Hazel Whitaker.”

“Hazel Hatfield now,” Logan and I correct at the same time.

“Tell them the other conditions,” Senior sneaked in.

Logan’s good humor vanished. “Conditions?”

I braced myself. This was the moment we’d been waiting for. For Senior to reveal his true colors and start being an unforgiveable asshole.

“Miss Whitaker is not to take the Hatfield name,” Mr. Smith said.

“Excuse me?” I said. It was my name. I could change it to whatever I wanted.

“The Hatfield name is sacred. You may marry into the family, but you will never be a Hatfield,” Senior spat.

“Absolutely not,” Logan refused at once.

Mr. Smith gave Logan a flat look. “You might find, Sir, that abject rejection does not pave the way for compromise and resolution. If you want to take, you must also give. Mr. Hatfield Senior is meeting your initial demand, allowing you to stay with your wife.”

Mr. Hudgens glanced at Logan and I. Softly he said, “We should hear all he has on the table, then make our counter demands.”

A muscle ticked in Logan’s jaw. “When Hazel’s involved, I get too fired up,” he admitted. “I can’t even think straight with this bullshit.”

“I can take the reins,” Mr. Hudgens offered. “You get the final say, but allow me to get us to that moment. Fair?”

“Fair,” Logan said.

“Thank you, Mr. Hudgens,” I said.

He gave the soft smile of a grandfather. “Please, call me Walter.”

“Let’s get on with it, then,” Senior snapped.

“Before we commit to a response,” Walter said, “I would hear what else Richard wants from these too. I doubt a refusal of name change is the full extent of his conditions.”

“You would be correct to doubt that,” Mr. Smith said. He glanced down at the paperwork in front of him. “Miss Whitaker is to attend a finishing school to help her develop the appropriate manners and decorum befitting those of high society.”

“There’s nothing wrong with –” Logan started. Under the table I placed my hand on his knee, stopping the words.

We had to hear out all the conditions before we made our counters.

“She is also to receive an entire new wardrobe,” Mr. Smith said. “Mr. Hatfield Senior is to help supervise the attire chosen, to ensure that she wears appropriate garments to appropriate parties, so as not to embarrass the Hatfield family.”

I glanced down at my pink blouse and gray slacks. What was so wrong with my outfits? I dressed professionally… mostly. He really thought I needed supervision to pick out an outfit.

Looking at Logan, I saw my own disbelief mirrored back at me. This was absolutely ridiculous.

“Is that it?” Walter asked calmly.

“These rules are to persist even after the time of Mr. Hatfield Senior’s death,” Mr. Smith continued. “In the case of Mr. Hatfield Senior’s death, I, Mr. Smith, would become the new supervisor. I’d also ensure the name rules are adhered to and that the manners and decorum are upheld.”

“You?” I asked.

He glanced at me, a sliver of a smile curling the very edge of his lips.

“Me,” he said. “Yes. Also, if any of the rules are broken, Miss Whitaker would be denied further association with the Hatfield family.”

“So if I want to stay married to Logan, I have to keep my name, take classes, and have someone pick out my outfits?” I asked.

“And maintain proper manners and decorum at all time,” Mr. Smith replied. “Any slight or embarrassment that you cast upon the Hatfield family will be seen as breach of contract.”

Impossible. That could mean anything. There was no way they wouldn’t nitpick something just to kick me out on purpose.

Walter glanced down at Logan and me. “I believe we have some counters to this.”

“This is non-negotiable,” Senior said. “Take it or leave it.”

“And if we leave it,” Logan replied, narrowing his eyes at his grandfather. “Then this war continues. You don’t have all the control anymore, grandfather. The tides have been shifting and you know that, or you wouldn’t even be here.”

“I’m not afraid of those cowards you interviewed,” Senior snapped. “Let them lie to the news. We can dispute anything anyone says.”

“You don’t think they’ll fight back?” Logan asked.

“Never. They couldn’t defend themselves then, and they won’t now. At the first sign of trouble, they will run,” Senior said. “They are still terrified of me, after all. If they were to see me in person, they would flee the other direction.”

A few snickers sounded from behind the partition.

Senior and his lawyers glanced in that direction.

“I’d like to counter that assessment,” Logan said, standing. I stood beside him.

“Remove that partition,” Logan called.

At once, two volunteers rounded the partition, appearing at the side of it, and then began to push. It slowly collapsed, closing one panel after another, until the entire other half of the room was visible.

All the victims…

All the people Senior had wronged…

Well, at least, those that would come forward…

They were here, staring at Senior, unafraid.

His assessment of them was wrong, as was his overconfidence in his own intimidation. Maybe at one point, he was the most powerful man in business. But now, he was a sad old man trying to dictate every aspect his grandson’s life.

Just like he did his father. Who was now standing, along with the Christopher’s, in the sea of victims.

Senior slowly stood and faced them. “How can this be?”

“We’ve wronged so many people over the years,” Walter said. “Countless people, truly. I began making my amends years ago, Richard. Have you?”

“We did what was necessary,” Senior said.

“Did we?” Walter countered. “Or did we only care about the bottom line?”

“The bottom line was necessary,” Senior said. “We needed money to –”

“Even after all these years,” said a female voice from the entrance of the ballroom. “It’s still only about the money with you.”

Turning, I saw Janice Weathers there in the flesh, with Dylan standing beside her.

Senior’s face paled sheet-white.

“Hello, Richard,” Janice said.