An Heiress for His Empire. Lucy Monroe

and have his own child in hopes of succeeding with him where he failed with you.”

      Wholly unprepared for that answer, several seconds passed before Maddie felt like she could breathe again. “He’s not a young man any longer.”

      “He is fifty-seven.”

      “He would not be so cruel.” And she did not mean to her.

      No child deserved to be born merely as a player on the chessboard. She should know.

      She’d taken herself out of play, but she’d had the strength of the memory of her mother’s love to bolster her own courage.

      This child would only have Jeremy Archer.

      Maddie shivered at the prospect. “I’m not having a child simply for him or her to be put in the same position.”

      “You want children.” There was no doubt in Vik’s voice.

      “Someday.”

      “Whenever you have them, or whoever you have your children with, Jeremy will want the company to ultimately pass on to them.”

      “I know.” Her father’s role in her life and that of any children she might have was something she’d already spent several hours talking to her therapist, Dr. MacKenzie, about.

      “That is not a bad thing.”

      She’d come to realize that. While Maddie’s feelings about AIH were too antagonistic for her to ever want to be a part of it, as she’d always seen it as the entity that kept her father from her, it did not automatically follow that her children would feel the same way.

      “You said something about me having a child being necessary for the man I marry to take over AIH.”

      “Upon the birth of our first child, my succession to the presidency will be announced. Your father will shift into a less active role as chairman of the board on his sixtieth birthday.”

      “And if I haven’t had a child by then?”

      “My becoming company president will not happen until we have had our first child.”

      “What if we can’t have children?”

      “We can.”

      “You sound very certain.”

      “I am.”

      She remembered the ultrasound her doctor had ordered as part of her last physical, at the company’s request. She’d thought it was odd, but since her medical insurance was through AIH, Maddie hadn’t demurred.

      “Jeremy had them run fertility tests on me.”

      “Just preliminaries, but enough to know that aside from something well outside the norm, you should have no trouble conceiving.”

      “That’s so intrusive!”

      Vik didn’t reply and, honestly, Maddie didn’t know what she wanted him to say. She wasn’t entirely sure the test had been all her dad’s idea. If Vik had suggested them, she wasn’t sure knowing would be of any benefit to her.

      “What else?”

      “The contract gives five percent of the company to me on our five-year anniversary. Another five percent on the birth of each child, not to exceed ten percent.”

      “How generous, he’ll allow me to have two children.” She’d always dreamed of having, or adopting, at least four and creating a home filled with love and joy.

      “The contract does not limit the number of children you have, only the stock incentive to me for fathering them.”

      She ignored the way Vik continued to assume he was her only option. “What else?”

      “On your father’s death, if we have been married for ten years, or more, I will get another five percent of the company. The remaining fifty percent of the company will be placed in trust for our children with voting proxy passing only to our children actively involved in the executive level of running the company. I will hold all outstanding family-voting proxies.”

      “But the other children will receive the income from the shares.”

      “Yes.”

      “It sounds complicated.” But then her father wasn’t a simple man, not by any stretch.

      Vik took a sip of his coffee. “Jeremy wants a legacy and you’ve made it clear you won’t be part of it.”

      “So he wrote me out of the will.”

      “Only insofar as his ownership of Archer International Holdings is concerned.”

      “I see.” Honestly, she didn’t care.

      The Madison Trust provided all the income she needed to live on. That income would decrease once half of her shares in the company transferred to Romi, but Maddie didn’t mind.

      The biggest expense she had was keeping up her appearance as Madison Archer, socialite. As far as she was concerned, that part of her life could go hang. If her father wanted her to keep up appearances, he could pay for the designer wardrobe and charity event tickets.

      “Is there anything else pertinent to me in the contract?”

      “Your father would like us to live in Parean Hall.”

      The Madison family mansion, named for the pristine white marble used for flooring in the oversized foyer and the risers on the grand staircase, had stood empty since the death of Maddie’s grandfather from a massive coronary upon hearing of his daughter’s accidental death nine years ago.

      “I have plans for the house.” It was part of the trust and would come to her when she turned twenty-five.

      “What plans?”

      “That is none of your business.”

      “Indulge me.”

      Maddie didn’t answer, but concentrated on finishing her pancakes. Vik didn’t press.

      His patient silence finally convinced her to tell him.

      She said, “I want to start a charter school, this one with boarders from the foster-care system.”

      “An orphanage.”

      “No, a school for gifted children in difficult family circumstances.” A place the children could be safe and thrive.

      Vik sipped at his coffee pensively for several moments.

      “How will you fund it?”

      “A large portion of my trust income will go to it annually, but I also plan to raise funds amidst the heavy coffers of this city. I’ve learned a lot about fund-raising since my first volunteer assignment on the mayoral campaign when I was a teenager.”

      “Your father has no idea how full your life is.”

      “No, he doesn’t.” And Vik had barely an inkling as well.

      She’d stopped telling him about her plans and activities when he’d rejected her so summarily six years ago.

      Vik relaxed back in his chair. “The Madison family estate is a large house, even by the elite of San Francisco standards, but hardly the ideal location for a school. Either in building architecture or location.”

      “Oh, you don’t think poor children should live among the wealthy?” she challenged.

      He didn’t appear offended at her accusation. “I think it will cost more than it’s worth to get zoning approval.”

      “That section was zoned for the inclusion of a local school, but none was ever built.”

      “And you think that zoning will remain once your neighbors learn of your plans?” he asked in a tone that said he didn’t.

      “I don’t intend to advertise them.”