Читать книгу Bound by the Kincaid Baby / The Millionaire's Miracle: Bound by the Kincaid Baby / The Millionaire's Miracle - Emilie Rose, Cathleen Galitz - Страница 7

“Consider it done,” Mitch Kincaid said Sunday afternoon to the trio gathered around the Kincaid Manor dining-room table for the reading of his father’s will.

“Don’t make it sound easy. Nothing involving a woman ever is,” his older brother, Rand, warned.

“Hey!” their younger sister, Nadia, protested.

Richards, the attorney, looked over his half-glasses at Mitch. “The child is your half brother and stands to inherit one quarter of your father’s estate. When billions of dollars are involved, unforeseen complications often arise.”

“Let me get this straight. I’m supposed to bring my father’s illegitimate son home to Kincaid Manor and keep him here for one year,” Mitch summarized the absurd scenario Richards had read moments ago. It didn’t sound any better now than it had then.

“That is correct. And if you fail to complete your task, you will also fail to inherit your share of Everett’s estate.” Richards paused to scan the three legitimate Kincaid offspring. “You all will. And everything Everett possessed will be sold to Kincaid Cruise Line’s chief rival for one dollar.”

Billions in assets and investments down the toilet. Fifty ships. Five more on order. Eight branded cruise lines under the Kincaid umbrella. Sixty thousand employees. All resting on Mitch’s shoulders.

He tried to shrug off the crushing weight. Kincaid Cruise Lines wasn’t just his job; it was his life, his wife, his mistress, his child. He wasn’t like his brother, who, if not for their father’s unexpected death three days ago, wouldn’t be in Miami now. Rand had walked away from the family and the business five years ago without looking back.

Mitch wouldn’t let KCL go without a fight. That meant not only did he have to accomplish his assigned task, but also he had to make damned sure each of his siblings held up their end of the inheritance obligations, too. Or lose everything.

Not gonna happen. Not on my watch.

He made a conscious effort to relax the hands he’d fisted. “What happens to the kid when the year is up?”

“That depends on who you want controlling his fortune until he reaches twenty-one. You or his aunt,” Richards replied.

“Not the aunt,” Mitch replied without hesitation and turned to his brother and sister. They hadn’t been privy to the latest complication of their father’s life or the cleanup detail Mitch had screwed up. No doubt that was why their father had assigned him babysitting duty. Punishment.

“The boy’s mother is dead and her twin sister is the kid’s guardian. I’m betting Carly Corbin is identical to her greedy, conniving twin in more than looks. She’s young and single. She’ll want to dump the kid. If she doesn’t, I’ll convince her.”

“How?” Rand asked.

“Money. I’ve never met a woman who didn’t have a price.” His comment elicited another indignant squawk from Nadia. “Dad instructed me to pay the boy’s mother a hundred grand to have an abortion—an abortion she obviously never had and managed to conceal from us or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Mitch’s first mistake had been to trust the woman when she’d accepted the money. He should have ensured she’d done what she’d been paid to do whether or not he’d approved of his father’s plan.

Rand’s eyes narrowed. “You’re sure the little bastard is Dad’s?”

Mitch nodded. “A DNA test confirmed it.”

A familiar hard knot returned to Mitch’s chest. Their father had received the test results just days before the child’s mother had been killed in a hit-and-run accident while crossing the street. The driver and car responsible hadn’t been found.

He hoped like hell his father hadn’t had a part in the woman’s death. But Everett Kincaid had never liked playing by any rules other than his own. No one knew that better than Mitch—his father’s right-hand man.

Nadia nervously tapped her nails on the table, anxious no doubt to hear her inheritance requirement. “Ignoring your incredibly sexist remarks and assuming Ms. Corbin hands over—what is our brother’s name?” She glanced at her copy of the will. “Rhett. Oh, I get it. Ever-Rhett. After Dad. Cute. What do you know about taking care of a one-year-old?”

Mitch knew more than Nadia thought. But he wasn’t going there. Ever again. “I don’t need to know anything. I’ll hire a nanny. The manor’s large enough I’ll never have to see the brat.”

He aligned his pen beside the thick pile of pages constituting the will. “I’ll have him installed in the nursery by the end of the month. Before year’s end, I’ll have guardianship and the aunt will be history. Bank on it.”