The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 699

Feby signed.

The pen scratched twice — her name, the date — and the room went quiet enough to hear it. Rael pulled the contract off the counter before the ink was dry. Not took it. Pulled it. Like she might change her mind if he left it there one second longer.

Four years of sitting below the salt, and her own uncle couldn't wait four seconds for her signature to set.

"Wonderful," Marta said. The warmth was already gone from the word, folded away like a costume between performances. "Then we move fast, while the city is still saying our name. Tomorrow night. A banquet at the Grand Aurelian — the full hall, none of the small rooms. We announce the Rydell house's partnership with the Reagent Group in front of every family in New Avalon that ever pretended not to see us at the opera."

Her chin lifted. "And we announce the new chairmanship of this house. Formally. In front of all of them."

Something in Feby's chest unclenched. Formally. In front of all of them. Her father's last words had lived under her ribs since the day he died — be good, take care of the family — and tomorrow, for the first time, taking care of them might finally look like belonging to them.

She didn't say that out loud. She never said that out loud.

"Prue." Marta didn't look over. "The firm produces the invitations tonight. Gold ink. You're an advertising house — advertise."

"The firm bills for rush work," Prue said, pleasant as tea. "New management."

Marta let it go. She actually let it go — and that told everyone in the room exactly how much tomorrow night was worth to her.

Then she turned back to Feby, and her voice found the edge it had been sharpening all evening.

"One more thing, Febyella. The invitation that matters. Your Reagent chairman — the man with no name this whole city is chewing on. You will invite him. Everyone in New Avalon will know the Rydells hold the Reagent Group's hand. Everyone who ever looked down on this family will learn their place."

Feby blinked. "Grandmother, I've never met him. Nobody has. I asked his own chief executive who he was and she wouldn't give me the first letter. It's impossible."

"Then invite him through her. You hold his flagship campaign and a post above manager in his own tower. If anyone in this city can put a card in his hand, it's you." Marta's eyes went bright and hard, already counting the future — the nameless chairman, first appearance anywhere, at a Rydell banquet. Every House that had ever snubbed them would crawl over broken glass for a seat. "If he attends, this family rises further in one night than it has in thirty years. If he cannot, then Miss Hargrove would honor any hall in this city."

"Grandmother, they're my bosses. I can't promise—"

Marta caught her hands and squeezed. "You must make it happen."

The grip was too tight to be affection. And there it was, cold and sudden in Feby's stomach: whatever she had just signed, it hadn't made her family. It had made her useful.

"Say nothing," Marta added. "Just do it."

"I can try—"

"Don't try. Make it happen."

***

They walked home through the lamplight, and for three blocks neither of them said a word.

"You think I made a mistake," Feby said finally.

"I think it's signed," Alex said. "And I think we'll find out together what family rates buy."

"They're going to work under me. You heard her. Under my direction. And tomorrow she announces me in front of the whole city." She was talking too fast, the way people do when they're furnishing a room they're not sure they get to keep.

"It's twenty percent, Alex. It's expensive. I know it's expensive. But it buys me the thing I never—" She stopped. Started again, quieter. "I've been alone with them my whole life. Tomorrow I get to not be. In family. In public. Maybe that's worth being overcharged for."

Alex looked at her sideways. Whatever he'd been carrying since the pen touched paper, he set it down somewhere she couldn't see.

"Then let's get you a chairman," he said.

"That's the part I can't do." Her hands started moving again, wringing air. "He's a sealed scion of Fenmarch, Alex. Ministers wait on his calendar. He bought the largest company in the state the way you'd buy bread. Why would a man like that spend an evening watching my grandmother perform graciousness?"

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