Carson's POV
Sunday dinner at the Gary estate was a tradition I'd grown to dread. The mahogany dining room felt more like a boardroom than a family gathering, with its imposing portraits of dead ancestors watching our every move.
I checked my watch. A few minutes past seven. Late enough to make my point, not late enough to give Grandfather ammunition.
"Carson." My mother, Angel, rose from her chair as I entered. Her perfectly styled silver hair didn't move as she kissed the air beside my cheek. "We were beginning to worry."
"Traffic," I lied, taking my usual seat across from my cousin Ella.
Ella smiled at me with all the warmth of a shark. "How wonderful that you could tear yourself away from work to join us mere mortals."
"Ella." I nodded curtly, not bothering to hide my disdain.
Her husband Robert sat beside her, already eyeing the wine like he needed liquid courage for whatever performance they had planned tonight. His investment banker salary was comfortable, but nothing compared to Gary money. The hunger in his eyes whenever he looked around the estate was almost pathetic.
My father, Grant, sat at the far end of the table, stone-faced as usual. He'd perfected the art of saying more with silence than most men managed with speeches.
"Where's Adeline?" I asked, noticing my sister's empty chair.
"Upstairs. Teenage drama," Mother replied with a sigh. "She'll be down shortly."
The rest of the extended family filled out the massive table. Uncle Yves, Ella's father, was already working on his second scotch. Aunt Catalina picked at her salad while shooting disapproving glances at everyone. Aunt Arya knitted quietly in the corner, somehow managing to eat one-handed.
But the head of the table commanded attention without saying a word.
Rick Gary, in his late seventies and sharp as the day he'd founded Gary Enterprises, sat in his wheelchair like a king holding court. Despite his age and physical limitations, he still possessed the presence that had built our family empire from nothing.
His gray eyes—the same color I'd inherited—missed nothing as they swept the room.
"Now that we're all here," Grandfather began, his voice carrying easily across the room despite his age, "I have an announcement."
The conversation died instantly. When Rick Gary spoke, everyone listened.
"I've been thinking about the future of Gary Enterprises. About legacy. About what happens when I'm no longer able to guide this family."
My stomach tightened. We'd had this conversation before, always ending the same way. Carson would inherit the controlling shares when Rick died. It had been decided decades ago.
"I've decided to update my will," he continued, and I felt the first flicker of unease.
Ella leaned forward slightly, her predatory smile widening.
"The controlling shares of Gary Enterprises will go to whichever of my grandchildren proves they're ready for the responsibility of carrying on our family name."
The room erupted.
"Rick, what are you saying?" Uncle Yves demanded.
"Grandfather," I started, but he held up a hand for silence.
"Carson, you've done exceptional work growing the company. Your business acumen is unquestionable." He paused, and I felt the trap closing around me. "But leadership requires more than profit reports. It requires stability. A foundation. A family."
No. He wouldn't.
"Which is why," Rick continued, his eyes locked on mine, "you have six months to get married."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Around the table, shocked gasps and excited murmurs filled the air.
"If you fail to marry within that time," Grandfather's voice cut through the chaos, "the controlling shares will pass to Ella."
I stared at him, speechless. Ella looked like Christmas had come early.
"Rick, that's archaic," I finally managed. "This is the twenty-first century, not the eighteen hundreds. Marriage has nothing to do with business leadership."
"Doesn't it?" His eyebrows rose. "Tell me, Carson, what happened to your engagement to the Holland girl?"
Heat flooded my face. "That was different."
"You called off a perfectly suitable engagement because, and I quote, 'she was utterly boring.'" Grandfather's voice dripped disappointment. "Before that, there was the Anderson girl. And the Hughes woman. All fine young ladies from good families, all dismissed because they didn't meet your impossibly high standards."
"I refuse to marry someone I don't care about just to satisfy some outdated notion of—"
"Of commitment?" Ella interrupted, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Of following through on promises? Of thinking about something other than yourself for once?"
I turned my glare on her. "Don't pretend this is about anything other than your greed, Ella."
"At least I can maintain a relationship longer than a few weeks," she shot back. "When was the last time you brought someone to a family dinner? When was the last time you introduced us to anyone who mattered to you?"
"My personal life is none of your business."
"It is when it affects the family legacy," Grandfather said firmly. "Gary Enterprises isn't just a company, Carson. It's a dynasty. Dynasties require heirs. Heirs require marriage."
My sister Adeline chose that moment to drift into the room, earbuds in, phone glued to her hand. "What's everyone shouting about?"
"Your brother's inability to commit to anything with ovaries," Ella said with obvious satisfaction.
Adeline looked at me with the particular brand of teenage wisdom that cut straight to the truth. "You did dump Chloe because she talked too much about her horse."
"She talked about nothing but her horse," I corrected.
"Still counts," Adeline shrugged, finally sitting down.
My father spoke for the first time all evening. "This ultimatum is reasonable, Carson. You're in your thirties. It's time to settle down."
"With who?" I demanded. "Should I just pick someone at random? Marry my secretary? Find a suitable candidate in the society pages?"
"You'll figure it out," Grandfather said calmly. "You always do. You're brilliant at solving problems, Carson. Consider this just another business challenge."
Robert leaned forward, dollar signs practically visible in his eyes. "What exactly would Ella inherit if Carson fails?"
"The controlling shares," Rick replied. "Full control of the company."
Ella's hand found Robert's arm, her grip tight with excitement. They were practically salivating.
"This is insane," I said, standing abruptly. "You can't just change the inheritance because you've decided I need a wife."
"I'm not changing it," Grandfather corrected. "I'm adding a condition. Marriage shows commitment, stability, the ability to think beyond immediate gratification. All qualities necessary for leadership."
"What if the marriage doesn't work out?" I asked. "What if we divorce?"
"Then you'll have proven my point about your inability to commit, won't you?"
Aunt Catalina gasped dramatically. "Carson, surely you can find one suitable girl in all of New York City. What about the Wellington daughter? She's lovely."
"And desperate," Ella added helpfully. "Perfect match."
I wanted to throw something. Preferably at Ella's smug face.
"Six months isn't very long," Mother said quietly. "Perhaps if you gave Carson more time—"
"Time isn't the issue," Grandfather interrupted. "If Carson wanted to be married, he'd be married. This deadline simply provides the proper motivation."
I looked around the table at my family. Uncle Yves was grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd had in ages. Robert was calculating potential profits. Ella looked ready to start planning her hostile takeover.
And Grandfather sat there like Caesar, completely confident in his power to reshape all our lives with a single decree.
"You can't be serious about this," I said one final time.
Rick Gary's eyes never wavered. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life."
The weight of his conviction settled over the room like a shroud. This wasn't a bluff or a negotiation tactic. This was an ultimatum, plain and simple.
Marry within the given timeframe or lose everything I'd worked for. Everything that was rightfully mine.
Ella was practically vibrating with glee. "Don't worry, cousin. I'm sure there's someone desperate enough to marry you for your money."
That did it. The final insult that pushed me past reason and straight into defiant fury.
"Fine," I said, my voice deadly calm. "Six months it is."
The room went silent.
"I'll find a wife," I continued, staring directly at Ella. "And when I do, you can go back to living off your husband's mediocre salary."
Ella's smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "We'll see about that."
Grandfather nodded once, satisfied. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other."
He wheeled his chair back from the table, preparing to leave us to digest his bombshell.
"Six months, Carson," he said, pausing at the doorway. "The clock starts now."