T w e l v e-3

I'm up before he's even finished speaking. I have no idea how I get from the sofa to suddenly towering over him on the chair. I'm simply in one position one moment and in another the next. I press my forearm hard against his windpipe with the singular intention of crushing it to a pulp. "Watch your fucking mouth! You're not good enough to worship at her feet you piece of shit," I growl. Walker grapples with my arm, trying to relieve the pressure on his airway as his face begins to change colour. Expensive golden tan to white, then red, and then purple. As I'm pulled off from behind, I swear I see the outline of a smirk across his slightly too full mouth. Bastard. Charlie is standing, hand at her mouth in horror as Gideon manoeuvres me away from Matthew Walker. My hands are trembling with rage as he rights his jacket and scrapes his hand through his long hair. "Looks like I was pointing the finger at the wrong billionaire cock," Walker says looking ruffled, yet somehow still fucking smug. Charlie hardens her stare on him. Cold and narrow, as though she's seeing him for the very first time. When she turns to me her gaze softens. Her mouth softens, and her entire body seems to soften. A strange thing happens to me in that moment - I relax, instantly. As her green eyes hold onto mine, the tremble of my fists lessens, and the tornado of rage whipping beneath my skin calms. Gently, I shrug off Gideon's grip on my shoulders and move back towards my seat on the sofa. "Let's finish this," I state calmly. When I'm sitting back down I slide the NDA across the table to Walker. "This confirms what you just said. That there are no copies and that the original tape will be returned to Charlie's possession. It also confirms that if you break any of the clauses of the agreement we make here today you're going to regret it." I force a smile. He meets my eye. "You think I'm going to be blackmailed into signing that? What the fuck do any of you have on me?" He glances at Charlie before moving to stand. "You'll do it because if you don't, in approximately seventy-two hours your company is going to fold. By all accounts it should have folded long ago, but it seems you've been overestimating profits for quite some time now. Something I'm certain is a felony in every state." Walker pales, visibly. I see a faint sheen of sweat break out across his forehead before my eyes. "You don't know anything about my company." His voice is uncertain. His eyes are too. "I'd stop making presumptions Walker," Gideon says. "I think we all know you're fucking shit at them." "I know a lot about your company actually," I go on. "Far more than your shareholders at least, more than the banks who you owe and who you've been borrowing from based on lies. Though not for long - if you don't sit the fuck down." I glare up at him. Very slowly he sits back down. "Please listen to him Matt," Charlie urges softly. Walker looks at Charlie then, a look of disbelief and betrayal swimming across his eyes. When he turns to me his eyes are hard as stone. "I'm listening." Speaking in my professional, businesslike tone, I relate to Matthew Walker everything I had my people dig up about his company: the truth about Upic Global, the truth he'd managed to keep hidden from everyone else, including his wife. He and his current CFO had managed to bury that truth pretty deep. His shareholders knew nothing, his board knew nothing, and his creditors knew nothing. As I talk, he remains utterly silent. He watches me through his narrowed blue stare not interjecting once. I can see the cogs behind his eyes going, working, thinking. He was undoubtedly smart. And his smart, shrewd eyes tell me everything I need to know about him. He knew that everything I was saying was the truth. And he hated me for it. Charles listens too, a grave look on her face as she hears for the first time just how much trouble her husband was really in, how much he'd kept from her, how much he needed her money. When I'm finished, I slide the NDA toward him, along with the conditional agreement of a $16.4 million investment by Gideon and I. It's no coincidence that it's exactly half the amount of Charlie's inheritance. I'd carefully rounded it up to ensure that the figure meant something to him. Charlie's divorce papers are sitting close to me, still inside the envelope. "You're going to invest in my company?" He says after a long silence, staring at me warily. He hasn't read the agreement. "Yes, Gideon and I will inject some much-needed capital to Upic Global. On the condition that you appoint a CFO of our choosing for a period of no less than 18 months. I have a candidate in mind. You stay on as CEO but you will have no input in the financial direction of the company until our investment is returned to us, in full and with interest. Though it needs a lot of work and steering from a capable person, the investment will stabilise Upic immediately, and it will boost your share price over night. Your company can be saved. But you need to act now, trust me." "Trust you?" he smirks. He smirks a lot I've noticed. "I have a lot of feelings toward you right now, Grey. Trust isn't top of that list I can assure you." "We'll I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," I say. Another smirk. "Oh, there's always a choice," he says. "Matt you're in trouble. The company is in trouble. The company you love. The company you built. Let Christian and Gideon help you." Charlie says softly. The softness of her tone cuts through the cold atmosphere in the room. He looks at her. "I don't want their help. I don't need it." "Your balance sheet begs to differ," I say in a measured tone. "Sign the papers and tomorrow your company moves back into profit. It's not just about the money. It's the connection to Cross & Grey. Those names mean something. You know that's true." "Do they?" He nods, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Then, for the first time, he leans forward and glances over the paperwork. The investment agreement first and then the NDA. "I'd rather my lawyer looked this over first. Who knows what the hell I'm signing." "Didn't you major in Law?" Gideon states. "Before your start up happened? It's a straightforward agreement to give you sixteen million dollars for a minimal stake in your company. I could have my housekeeper look it over if you like. It's not complex." "I'd hardly call twenty-eight percent minimal." He states without looking up. "100% isn't worth a dime as it stands at this moment," I point out.