“I’m not here to make money. I’m here to take over the world.” I put my foot down.

“You might not have a choice,” Devon pushed. “If you lose the lawsuit, you’d have to stop anyway. And have plenty of legal bills to pay, another PR disaster on your hands, and a father who’d kick you out of the CEO position, turn the board against you, and appoint Hunter to run the show. No offense, Hunt.”

“None taken.” Hunter shrugged. “I don’t want to be CEO. You know what this kind of pressure can do to my skin?” He rubbed his knuckles over his jaw.

“We can always think outside the box. And by that, I mean put Arrowsmith in one.” Sam lit up a cigarette, not touching any of the food. I doubted he could digest something that wasn’t meat, beer, and nicotine.

Devon smiled politely. “I’ve a feeling I don’t want to be here for this conversation. Allow me to excuse myself, gentlemen.” He stood and walked back into the cabin.

Sam shot me a sidelong glance. The bloodthirsty bastard was always in the mood for breaking spines.

“Regretfully, you can’t kill Arrowsmith. The blowback would be huge, all arrows would point at me, and the media would have a field day. Not to mention, Arrowsmith has children.”

“When did you grow a conscience and start caring about children?” Sam asked.

“You haven’t met the little devils. If something happens to their parents, no one would want to adopt them.”

“Fine. He can live. I can still throw my weight around.”

“Physical extortion won’t get you far.” I dropped the papers on the table. “He’s got something on me, and I’m waiting to see how he’s going to use it. We need to play this carefully.”

“What does he have on you?” Hunter leaned forward. “You’re disgustingly perfect. Dad’s fucking mo òrga. What could it possibly be?”

I smiled. “We have to keep it clean. Let’s leave it at that.”

“In that case, I’m with Whitehall on trying to squash that beef,” Sam admitted, tossing his lighter on the table. “He is going ahead with the lawsuit. You can get him in a few months when things calm down. In the meantime, your best shot is finding common ground with Green Living.”

“Cillian will never cower.” My brother shook his head.

“Retreating is not submitting.” Sam stood. “If Kill wants to win this thing, he has to play it smart. This is round one out of many. History doesn’t remember the battle. Only the name of the man who threw the final knockout.”

Sam wasn’t wrong.

What he didn’t know was that Andrew Arrowsmith was the last man to throw the punch before we parted ways many years ago.

And this time? I wasn’t going to stop until he saw stars.

My husband did an admirable job of avoiding me for the entire length of our first day at the ranch.

He dodged our meals together, escaped the walk we all did on the trail, and spent long hours with his horses.

Was I disappointed? Yes. Was I going to let it ruin the weekend for me? Hell no. I hadn’t gone on very many trips outside of Boston in my twenty-six years, and this was a golden opportunity to have fun with my friends.

For the first time since I’d married Paxton, I wasn’t broke. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder on the street for fear I’d be ambushed. My life took a turn for the better, no matter how empty it had still felt without Cillian fully in it.

The last day on the ranch, Belle announced she wanted to horseback ride with just us girls.

“But you don’t know how to ride.” Aisling tilted her head, forever the voice of reason.

Belle shrugged, popping a cherry into her mouth over the breakfast table.

“So? You can teach me. Besides, I’ve done my fair share of riding in my life, just not bareback.” She winked. “Safety first.”

“Thanks for ruining breakfast.” Sailor saluted to Belle with her orange juice.

“Seriously, though, who goes to a ranch without riding?” Belle wondered.

My sister had a point.

“Cillian won’t like it if we use his horses,” Ash warned.

“Cillian doesn’t like anything,” I snapped, a little too harshly.

Sailor snorted into her orange juice. “Preach. I actually think it’s a great idea. Not only because it would piss off Persy’s husband, but also because an opportunity to ride horses like Cillian’s doesn’t come often. Each of them costs like 300k or something. Unfortunately”—she patted her rounding belly—“riding is off the table for me. But I’ll cheer you on with a bag of Cheetos in hand. Live vicariously through you.”

My need to stick it in Kill’s face was greater than my fear of mounting a 2,200-pound beast that could break my neck with one wrong move.

“Actually, I agree. I think we should ride,” I chirped.

“Really?” Everyone at the table turned to me in surprise. I wasn’t exactly known for my rebellious streak. I nodded. It was high time I tried new things. And since having a genuine relationship with my husband wasn’t going to be one of them, why not take up horseback riding?

“But Cillian—” Ash started.

“I’ll handle him.” I raised a hand to stop her. “Tell him I held you at gunpoint if it comes to it.”

“Well, then.” Aisling clapped her hands together. “Let’s get changed and meet at the stables in an hour.”

I went through the motions of getting changed, then met Ash and Belle outside the barn. Aisling, who’d learned to ride like her two older brothers from infancy, led Hamilton out of his stall by his bridle, patting his brown coat with a smile.

“He’s the sweetest out of the bunch. He was my training horse after I graduated from ponies.”

“Dang, Ash. That’s the whitest thing I’ve ever heard.” Belle checked her ass in her tight riding trousers with her phone camera.

Ash led Hamilton out of the stables and cantered with him. She explained to us the basic anatomy of the horse, the signals, and what they indicated. We bumped into Hunter, Sam, and Devon on our way out of the barn to the trail. The track wrapped around the smoky mountain like a ribbon.

The men strode into the stables just as we got out.

“You’re riding, too?” Aisling asked, turning tomato-red as soon as she noticed Sam. True to his Sam-ness, he ignored her existence as he breezed past her.

He wasn’t rude to his boss and best friend’s baby sister. But there was no doubt he considered her off the menu.

“Bet.” Hunter fluffed her hair, popping his gum. “Where’s my better half?”

“In the cabin, reading.”

“Bomb. The only stud she should be hanging out with while preggers is me. Dev, can you help Belle get on a horse? I’ll do Persy.”

“I don’t need any help,” Belle protested.

Devon’s eyes ran over my sister as though she was his favorite dessert while a sinister smirk tugged at his lips.

“I like her fire, Hunt.” Devon jerked his thumb toward my sister.

“Great,” she chirped, “because you’re about to get third-degree burns if you keep objectifying me.”