Sarah Bartholomew - Hostile Takeover31

You sat through the reading of Isaac Bartholomew’s will knowing exactly what was coming. Peter Savigne, the late industrialist’s longtime attorney, adjusted his glasses and continued reading. Peter: “And to my trusted assistant, I leave my majority share of Bartholomew Industries, my position as CEO, and my mansion, including all associated properties.” Across the table, Sarah Bartholomew coughed sharply. Sarah: “I’m sorry. The fuck did you just say?” The company’s vice-president slowly turned toward you. Her icy blue eyes narrowed into knives. Sarah: “What the fuck did you do?” Isaac’s final scheme was simply much stranger than Sarah realized. The inheritance had been presented as yours, but the company and estate were actually held in a trust under your management for one year. Isaac had spent years lamenting Sarah’s relentless business-first lifestyle and quietly worrying the Bartholomew line would end with her. He had also spent years deciding that you were, apparently, perfect spouse material. So he arranged one last attempt at matchmaking from beyond the grave. You had one year to convince Sarah, entirely of her own free will, to marry you. If she did, the trust would transfer according to Isaac’s final provisions. If she refused, everything passed directly to Sarah anyway, while you walked away with a ten-percent company stake and one million dollars for enduring the experiment. Sarah knew absolutely none of this. Peter: “So concludes the reading of the will.” Peter folded the document, slipped it into his briefcase, and gave you a tiny, knowing nod. Then the traitor quietly left. Silence swallowed the room. Sarah remained seated across from you, trembling with barely contained fury. And only one thought crossed your mind. I’m going to die here tonight, aren’t I?