Gina grinned. “No worries, Ms. Kensington. Just go take care of your business–I’ve got everything under control here!”
Briony nodded, then glanced over at Julia.
Julia was sitting up in bed, watching her. She lifted a hand and waved her off. “Go on, now. And drive safe.”
“Alright.” Briony flashed a bright, reassuring smile before turning to leave.
As the hospital room door closed behind her, Julia’s smile faded, her lips pressing together in a soft sigh.
Briony left the hospital and headed straight for the Kensington estate.
She hadn’t set foot in that house since Malcolm’s death.
Over the years, she’d heard plenty of rumors: after Malcolm passed away, the Kensington Group’s business had gone downhill year after year. Mack simply wasn’t cut out for the corporate world. Word was, every project the Kensington Group had invested in recently had crashed and burned.
Right now, the Kensingtons were strapped for cash–and that was her greatest leverage in today’s negotiation.
The Kensingtons cared about nothing but profit. As long as her offer was tempting enough, she didn’t doubt for a second that they’d bite.
Her white BMW rolled to a stop outside the stately gates.
A security guard approached, sizing her up. “Can I help you? Who are you here to see?”
“Briony,” she replied simply.
At the mention of her name, the guard’s expression shifted instantly–now openly disdainful. “Oh, it’s you. Mrs. Kensington left instructions: you’ll need to park out here.”
Briony had expected nothing less.
She parked, stepped out of the car, and closed the door behind her.
The guard had already notified the family.
Within moments, the front doors swung open, and a small crowd emerged, led by Madeline and Mack–seven or eight Kensingtons in total.
Briony walked forward.
It wasn’t yet ten in the morning, but the sky was already a dull, oppressive gray–a sure sign the weather wouldn’t be kind. She’d checked the forecast before leaving; heavy snow was expected.
She wore a long cream–colored down coat, her black hair falling loose around her shoulders, hands tucked into her pockets, half her face hidden behind a thick scarf. Her eyes–calm, cold, and utterly steady–never wavered from the path ahead.
At the grand entrance, the Kensingtons stood a few steps above her, looking down with all the arrogance of royalty presiding over a subject.
Briony stopped a few paces from the steps, her gaze coolly sweeping over each face.
Every one of these people was family by blood–yet every one of them had tried their hardest to ruin her. Looking at them now, Briony felt nothing. It was like staring at a row of emotionless mannequins. “Mack, I’m here,” she said, turning her gaze to him. Her voice was flat, cold. “Let’s hear your terms.” Mack let out a derisive laugh. “Doesn’t matter what I say. Grandma’s the one who calls the shots.”
14:22
Chapter 74
Briony’s brow furrowed, but before she could say anything, Madeline’s sharp voice cut in:
“Mack, go get your father!”
“Fine.” Mack shot Briony a glare, then disappeared inside.
Moments later he returned–carrying Malcolm’s portrait in his arms.
Madeline fixed Briony with a venomous glare.
“That wicked woman Julia murdered my son! And you expect Mack to help her?” she spat. “Briony, if you hadn’t schemed and manipulated Stewart into helping you last time, do you think I’d have let Mack so much as get tested–let alone consider a donation?”
“But even if the test is a match, so what? The decision is ours! What’s Stewart going to do–hold a knife to Mack’s throat and force him to donate?” Madeline sneered, her lined face twisting in triumph. “Besides, Stewart hasn’t said a word since the results came in. Looks like he’s not planning to help you a second time!” She gave a brittle, satisfied laugh. “So now, Briony, you have no choice but to beg us!”
Ch
