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Mr. Beast: An Enemies to Lovers Romance by Nicole Elliot (71)

Eighteen

Ava

 

I walked into the house and heard the fighting my family was already doing. I followed the sound of the raised voices, trying to stick as close to the wall as I could. The family lawyer sat on the couch watching everything unfold. This was a business family meeting, not a personal one.

I felt a bit of relief flood my veins.

“Hunter?” I said with a whisper. “Hunter?”

My brother looked over at me before he slapped Finn and Lorenzo. The three of them came over to my side as we stood in the doorway. The lawyer looked up at us, a stern gaze in his eyes as the four of us huddled in the doorway. My father rattled on about something to him while my mother sat in the corner, her back straight in her body poised.

Like the little trophy she was intended to be for the rest of her life.

“What the hell’s going on?” I asked.

“A business venture with the company is tanking,” Hunter said.

“That doesn’t tell me a damn thing,” I said.

“Dad’s trying to purchase some land in the area in order to lay a gas line through it. The company isn’t budging,” Finn said.

I blinked at my brother as my blood ran cold. Did he just say what I thought he did?

“What?” I asked.

“Ava, you’re not that stupid,” Lorenzo said. “Dad’s company is trying to purchase part of Kettle in order to lay a gas line through it. He wants to develop the town. Bring it up with his name written all over it. Why did you think we were here all summer?”

“I thought this was a fucking family vacation,” I said.

“Oh, language. I like it. Sass looks good on you sis,” Hunter said.

Holy shit. Our company was the company threatening Travis's family. My father was the one who wanted to tear up the mountainside and lay that stupid gas line. He was the one using all of the strong-arm tactics in order to get Travis's father to budge.

I was shocked, but the sad thing was that I wasn't surprised.

“How long has Dad been going at the lawyer like that?” I asked.

“Fifteen minutes. Apparently, Dad’s company is trying to get the government to play in our favor and he can’t. He has to establish the fact that this company has a monopoly of some sort or is going something illegal, and he can’t. He’s trying to find other ways to get them to sell,” Finn said.

“Why can’t Dad just lay the lines around the mountains?” I asked.

“It’ll cost him millions more,” Lorenzo said.

“So the fuck what? The company has the money. Why does he have to destroy the beauty of this place just to get shit done cheaper?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?” Hunter asked.

I looked back at my father, who was red-faced and irate. The entire reason Travis was so upset was because of them. Because of us. Because of me. How in the world was I going to explain that to him? Especially after this morning? I had no idea if I was ever going to see him again, and I was never going to get a chance to explain myself. I didn't want my father tearing up the mountain side and I wanted things to be okay with Travis. It was too beautiful and I had too many precious memories in this town to see it disappear.

But between my father's disgusting business antics and the fact that Travis wouldn't even talk to me about what we were, I had no idea how to resolve this. I wasn't sure I could. But I knew I had to try. My voice was all I had, along with the business knowledge I had acquired from my books, so I was going to use it.

No matter what it cost me.

“Okay,” I said. “I will.”

“Wait, what?” Lorenzo asked.

“Are you out of your mind?” Finn asked.

“Daddy?” I asked.

The conversation stopped and my father turned his angry gaze onto me. His eyes raked up and down my body as the lawyer sighed with relief, glad he was no longer being yelled at. I knew how he felt. I knew what it felt like to be berated and bombarded by the booming voice of my father. I stepped away from my brothers and into the room, praying that I was making the right choice.

Maybe this would win a conversation with Travis.

“And where in the world have you been?” my father asked.

“Out. Listen, I don’t think the gas line is a good idea,” I said.

I felt everyone in the room staring at me as my father snickered.

“And what makes you think that? You know, since you’re so knowledgeable and independent now,” he said.

“For one, taking out the mountainside creates a risk for rockslides. Someone getting hurt laying that pipeline is going to run you an exorbitant cost with regard to medical claims. And that risk doesn’t go away once you level part of the mountainside. You create unstable fissures with the explosions to the side of the mountains, and if rockslides form or if part of the mountain collapses, it could crack the pipeline and leak thousands of gallons of gas into Kettle,” I said.

I watched as a grin appeared on our lawyer’s face.

“Excuse me?” my father asked.

“It’ll take you millions more to route the gas line around the mountains, but it’ll be safer for the town and the people working. You can either spend the money making the pipeline safer and more stable, or you can spend it repairing cracks in the pipeline and paying out of the company’s pocket in medical expenses when claims are filed,” I said.

“You have no business coming in here after everything you have put this family through—after everything you have put your own mother through—and tell me what to do with my business,” my father said.

“You said it before. You created all of this for us, right? So why can’t we have a say in what happens with the company?” I asked.

“Because I’m still running it. And as far as I’m concerned, all of my ungrateful children don’t deserve any of it,” my father said.

“She’s right,” our lawyer said. “You do run all of those risks.”

“Shut up, Michael. You can’t even do your own damn job right,” my father said.

“You can’t force the federal government to intervene on this topic,” Michael said. “You can’t use the money you donated to the president’s campaign as a way to strong-arm him into this. They could shut you down for something like that.”

“I’m trying to better this town, and that fucking Benson family is standing in the way of that! My media tactics didn’t work, the threatening letters haven’t worked. Hell, they’re shooting at the scouts I send into the woods,” my father said.

“Wait. Media tactics?” I asked.

That was why the name Travis Benson sounded so familiar. My father was the one who waged war against them in the media. All of those propaganda-like commercials he ran against their company. Why the hell could I not recall that company's name?

“Shut up and go stand with your mother,” my father said.

“No,” I said. “Our company is the one that made those awful commercials against the Benson family?” I asked.

“How do you know that name? And why the hell do you think this is your company, you ungrate, inconsiderate child?” my father asked.

“I can’t remember the name of the company, but I do remember their names. You slaughtered that man in the media. You painted him to be an absent father. A feeble-minded man who didn’t know how to run his own company. Why would you do that?” I asked.

“You want to be an adult, yet you can’t comprehend why adults do specific things? Sounds like your mother more and more everyday,” my father said.

“You can’t run that gas line through the mountains. It will destroy them. You can have your pipeline and the mountains can stay intact. There is a solution here that gives everyone what they want,” I said.

“That isn’t how businesses are run, sweetheart. That isn’t how empires are made,” my father said.

“Don’t call me ‘sweetheart.’ I hate it. And secondly, that isn’t how empires are made either. Empires didn’t conquer. They grew with the help and input of their people. But rulers had to earn their trust. Rulers had to work with them. Now, if empires wanted to branch out beyond their formulated borders, then the conquering happened. But you haven’t done that. You haven’t breached the borders of Washington State yet,” I said.

My father's eyes burned into me as the lawyer stood from the couch. He excused himself from the room and walked by me, offering his hand for me to slap. I gave him a small high-five as I heard a slow clap begin behind me, pride welling in my chest.

I turned around and saw my brothers clapping. Supporting me with grins on their faces as I stood toe-to-toe with my father on his business practices.

“When in the world did you start taking an interest in business?”

I whipped my gaze over to my mother and took in her proud stare. There was a grin on her cheeks and a surprise in her eyes. For the first time in years, I saw a sparkle in her features. Her skin glowed with intrigue and happiness as she stood from her chair. My mother was proud of me. Impressed with me. Not angry like my father. Not shocked like our lawyer. But proud.

Like a mother should be.

“Books. I snuck them in before, but I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not hiding my knowledge or my thirst for it. Dad, you’re going about this all wrong. If you want to build an empire of a company, then you have to start by making compromises with those you run into. If you continuously burn bridges, you’ll be stuck on an island you’ve conquered by yourself,” I said.

I couldn't identify the look in my father's eyes, but I knew it wasn't good. He gripped his fists as he started pacing the floor. His face was redder than I had ever seen it and sweat started to gather on his brow. He physically bit down on his tongue, his temple throbbing with the movement as my legs grew weak. I was paralyzed with fear. I have never seen this kind of anger in my father's stance before, and I knew that whatever was coming was going to be bad.

“Get out of my sight,” my father said.

“What?” I asked.

“I gave you the easiest life imaginable. While other fathers are forcing college onto their children, I groomed you for a life of ease. A life of bearing children, rushing them off to nannies, and sitting in a room entertaining guests. I made sure every decision was made for you so you wouldn’t have to struggle making them yourself, and this is the thanks I get!? My daughter assuming she knows how to run my company better from some old library books!? You are a selfish, ungrateful piece of work, Ava Lucas. And I want you out of my sight.”

“Is that what you thought you gave me? By taking my ability to decide the kind of life I wanted, you thought you were helping me?” I asked.

“Get out!” my father roared.

“Fine!” I said. “I’ll get out. And I won’t just get out, but I’ll stay out. This is the most insane thing I’ve ever witnessed. You’re acting like a toddler who can’t have his way. The Benson’s company won’t give you exactly what you want, so you’re throwing an adult-sized tantrum about it!”

“Ava,” Hunter said. “I think that’s enough.”

“Just to let you know, I’m applying for a job at the library. I’ve been thinking about it recently with all the time I’ve been spending there, and a job has opened up. I’m putting in my resume for it and getting a place of my own,” I said.

“With what money?” my father asked. “And what resume!?”

“I’m pretty sure being your daughter counts as work experience,” I said with a hiss.

“A job?” my mother asked. “Why would you want a job?”

“You’re impressed with my business knowledge, but you don’t want me applying that knowledge anywhere? Really, Mom?” I asked.

“You don’t have to respect me,” my father said. “You don’t have to appreciate anything I’ve given your spoiled little ass for your entire life. But you will not disrespect the woman who brought you into this world. Who ripped her body apart to bring you into it. Apologize to your mother.”

“For what?” I asked. “For calling her out on her hypocrisy? All I want is to no longer live off you guys. To make my way in this world and have my own place. To show you that I’m made of more than you could’ve ever imagined, and yet you are set on stuffing me into this ignorant, whimsical little mold. Why? I deserve at least that.”

“Deserve?” my father asked. “You want to know what you deserve, Ava? A swift kick in the rear! For the past week, you’ve been stomping around here like you’re an adult. Forcing your tongue into discussions that don’t require your input and throwing the life I created for you back into my face. You want to go live on your own? Fine. Because once you realize how hard it is out there for someone like yourself, you’ll find yourself right back on this doorstep. And when you return, you won’t step foot into this house until you apologize.”

I looked around the room before I glanced back at my brothers. Their eyes were worried, but their stances were strong. I knew they would stand behind me every step of the way. They had been ever since I had tiptoed around the idea of leaving in the first place. My eyes darted between the three of them, drawing strength from their love as Lorenzo nodded his head.

“Go for it,” he said with a whisper.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go. But I’ll leave you with this. If you do get your way and you do lay that pipeline through the mountains, two things will happen. You’ll destroy this town and your business will never be what you want it to be. Reputation is everything in the business world. And right now? Yours is shit.”

I turned on my heels and walked away before my parents could say anything else. I saw my brothers’ jaws drop in shock as their eyes followed me out of the room. I grabbed my purse and my keys, then made my way for my car. I closed the front door behind me as I sighed, allowing my nerves to subside. It was the first time I had to work through that kind of fear and my body was exhausted. My legs trembled and my knees felt weak, my body leaning against the door so I could regain my strength.

Then I walked to my car, slid into the driver's seat, and sat.

I dug through my purse until I found the envelope full of money my brothers had given me a couple of days ago. In California, it was enough to get my own place and afford it for three months. But in Kettle, it was enough to get my own place and afford it for almost seven. I could do this. I had to go by the library and apply for that position, but I was already halfway there.

But there was someone I wanted to see first.

Someone who deserved an explanation from the company who was harassing his.