A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(127)

“Is that right?” Carter asked with a backward tilt of his head. Austin raised his eyebrows in reply and walked around his desk to take his leather-and-wood throne. “And just how do you think that shit’s gonna fly, Austin?” Carter continued. “The shares are in my name. They were given to me by our grandmother. The contract that was drawn up is legally binding on a scale that even your pathetic excuse for a law team can’t change it.” He waved his hand indifferently toward the lawyers. “You can’t dilute the shares because of the provisions on them. Granddaddy tried for years. It ain’t gonna happen.”

Austin looked at Steve and David. The two men sat down at Carter’s right. Adam remained standing to his left. Carter was being cornered. They were using blatant intimidation tactics.

“That’s why you’re here.” Austin smiled tightly. “So we can discuss the provisions in detail.”

Carter smirked. “You mean you wanna discuss how much it’s gonna cost you *s to get rid of me, right? Can’t have an ex-con owning a billion-dollar company, now, can we? What would the papers say?”

Carter shook his head and turned to look out of the window. “It must really bug the shit out of you that I have the biggest share-holding in the company you were primed to take over, huh?”

“Not as much as it must bug the shit out of you that we have control over your money every month.” Carter’s head snapped back to Austin, whose face was pinched and hard. He sat forward. “I’d bear that in mind before you start with your sanctimonious bullshit, Carter. I kept your ass out of prison once; I can sure as hell get it back in there.”

Carter became very still. “You threatening me, Ford?”

“No,” Austin replied, “just reminding you that you’re not the only one with a set of cards to play.”

Carter was silent for a considerable amount of time before he continued in a low, even voice. “The money I receive, I have every right to claim. It’s mine. In fact, I should get more—”

“You would, if you didn’t have a criminal record.”

Carter hid the flinch of rage that pricked at his throat when Austin interrupted him. In truth, Carter couldn’t have given two shits about the money. He never had. What he cared about was that he was the rightful owner of the shares of which Austin spoke. Adam, who placed a very formal-looking document in front of Carter, broke the game of stare-down between Carter and Austin.

“You haven’t brought any legal representation,” Adam said pointedly. “It would be better if—”

“I can read, Adam. Just explain what it says and cut to the chase,” Carter barked, making his cousin flinch. “My lawyer can peruse that shit at his leisure.”

Adam fiddled with his cuffs and exhaled. “Upon dilution of your current shares, the money you receive monthly would be tripled. For life,” he said. “Instead of paying for an acquisition with shares, we’re offering you new shares in the firm. Shares worth in the region of five million—”

Carter snorted in derision. “Five million? Are you shitting me?”

He looked incredulously from Adam to Austin and back again. Both men remained silent. Carter rubbed his face in disbelief, aching for a smoke. “We all know the shares I own are in excess of five hundred million,” he scoffed. “I was expecting to be impressed with your offer, not insulted.” Carter pushed the papers across Austin’s desk and slammed back in his seat. “Try again.”

Austin visibly bristled and took a deep breath that made his shoulders lift. “For someone who claims to not give a shit about the business, you sure seem to be protective and knowledgeable about it all.”