The chill in the air was perfectly curated for the comfort of the priceless collection of wine. Charlotte was looking for a bottle of wine to offer the Westbrook family as a peace offering. She kept a close eye over the negotiations, and from everything she had witnessed, they were less than amicable. She didn't want Vivian to start off with a family that had a sour taste in their mouth. Every time Conrad swiped the screen, the data pulsed with an irritating glow, highlighting the "squalor" the Westbrooks believed he perpetrated against his daughter.
"Row 42, Bin 18," Charlotte whispered, her voice a sharp contrast to the low-frequency hum of the nitrogen cooling. "The '45 Romanée-Conti. It may be to their taste."
Mr. Jameson found the bottle in question for Mrs. Kane. He swiped a gloved thumb across the aged label, allowing her to view it.
"Orlando is pushing for a Sovereign Immunity clause on weapons exports, Section 9.1. He wants to use our shipping lanes as a 'black box' for his hardware, effectively shielding the Westbrooks from international litigation once the crates hit Kane waters." He always knew that Orlando had to be crooked. Just something about him.
"Both of you made greedy requests?" Charlotte stated, her eyes scanning the high-tech inventory grid.
"Full indemnity for all luxury consignment. If we lose a shipment of gold or fine art on their watch, they have to eat the entire cost, regardless of fault. Is he out of his mind?" Orlando laughed as he dropped the tablet on the bed next to him. He knew Conrad was a thief. The nerve of him, to want his Westbrook family to pay for their incompetence.
"Darling, keep reading!" Aubrey sighed in mild annoyance, as this had been his ongoing reaction to every clause the Kane family had sent to them. It was taking an exceptionally long time to get through all of the clauses.
Conrad's lip curled. "But look at this. Section 12. Successor procurement. They want a tiered trust for the heirs. A hundred million seed for the first and second. The third is a fifty-fifty split." What child needed access to so much money, especially from birth? What would a baby do with $100 million? It was ridiculous.
"We will pay it. Do not let the small ruin a deal," Charlotte said, her heels clicking against the floor as she walked to the next section, deciding to pull a few bottles to place in the embossed crate as Mr. Jameson followed closely behind.
"And the annual endowment?" Conrad could feel his blood pressure rising with each word he read.
"Two percent of net corporate earnings or a flat fifty million annually—whichever is higher. It's a subscription fee for grandchildren that will not even have my last name." Conrad leaned in, highlighting a red-lined section.
The low buzz of clippers filled the lower-level salon. Orlando's booming laugh echoed off the mirrors, the sound sharp and resonant in the bright space. He was doubled over, nearly causing his barber to nick his jaw.
"Aubrey, you have to hear this!" Orlando choked out, wiping a tear of genuine amusement. "Kane won't pay for his daughter's grocery money! He has a twenty-trillion-dollar cap and he's begging for a handout. The poor girl's trust is two hundred million and it's eroding."
Aubrey couldn't believe it. Reaching across, she took the tablet from his hands as her hair was being pinned into a structural masterpiece. "She has no equity, no salary, and she's spending seventy thousand a month?" Aubrey couldn't believe that Vivian's family was trying to control her so completely. The only reason to strangle your child with this kind of financial instability was for control. But from everything they'd learned, Vivian was obedient. This seemed like cruelty for cruelty's sake.
"I spent more than that on the custom hardware for the guest bathrooms. She's living in a state of financial trauma." As much as she wanted a fiscally responsible daughter-in-law, this was past the level of acceptability.
Taking back the offered tablet, he made a notation. "I'm striking the 'Equalizer.' We aren't paying Conrad's bills. He needs to put his daughter on salary. Give her an honorary title. And have her sustain herself."
"He's also laughing at Vivian's liquidity profile. His lawyers flagged it as 'at-risk.' They're calling her two-hundred-million-dollar trust 'squalor.' They see her zero-dollar income and seventy-thousand-a-month spend and think I'm starving her. Orlando is actually proposing an 'Income Equalizer' clause. He wants me to pay her five million quarterly to offset her unemployment."
The sound of his voice seemed to carry across the Hill, where it was met with a very different frequency. Conrad snapped. "Ten percent equity before he's even thirty? He's a 'VP' who spends one-point-two million a month on cars and parties."
"That's why we're enforcing the Vesting Cliff, Section 15.9. If they divorce before the 15-year mark, they both lose fifty percent of their inheritance and one hundred percent of their trusts. Six hundred and fifty billion for Vivian, three hundred and ten for Gunner. It's a financial suicide pact."
Charlotte had made sure the clause was in there. She knew that Vivian wouldn't feel the impact of losing a hundred and some odd billion. But Gunner would. His inheritance was half of her own. And the way he spends, he might not care about treating her daughter well, but the money he would lose if he didn't—that he sure would care about.
"It's barbaric," Aubrey agreed. "The analytics show she only has access to a three-hundred-thousand-dollar monthly allowance. And the 3.2 billion in legacy gifts from her grandparents? It's sitting in a high-yield escrow account. She's counting pennies for shoes while her father sits on a mountain. But look at Gunner's side, Orlando. The contrast is embarrassing for the Kanes."
"Section 22," Aubrey confirmed. "All medical records—including the DNA profiles for the future heirs—are to be held in neutral Venzor servers. I don't want the Kanes looking for 'genetic flaws' in our lineage to use as leverage later."
Orlando smiled, a sharp, predatory look. "They can look all they want. By the time Vivian realizes she's being married into a family that actually spends money, she'll be the one helping us hide the Westbrook secrets."
"We'll need to speak to Arthur, note the 'Discretion Penalty,'" Conrad told Charlotte. "Any public scandal or photographed infidelity results in an immediate five-hundred-million-dollar fine to be paid by the offending party. I won't have the Kane name dragged through the mud because a Westbrook can't keep his private life off the internet."
The elevator doors hissed shut as they entered. Charlotte had a hard time not laughing. If there's one thing Conrad was exceptional at, it was hiding his affairs from the world. She was exempt from such niceties.
"The Forest Hills property is finalized. A hundred-million-dollar starter home, plus the one-billion-dollar incidental match. Two billion dollars in walking-around money."
"And the encrypted medical servers?" A lot of the finer details were squared away, Charlotte felt.
"Very little left to deal with," Conrad agreed. Most of the finer points were regrettable, but definitely not enough to break a good deal.
"This will ensure our legacy," Charlotte hoped. Her daughter's life would be less chaotic than hers had been. If she was lucky, she would not have to see her husband too often.
The elevator dinged and the two disembarked. Conrad stopped to check his appearance. He turned to the mirror, smoothing his lapels. "I can see your mind all over this contract." His eyes met hers in the mirror as she stood tall and regal. A beautiful outward representation of a Hill wife. "Great work."
Her smile was tight but honest as she nodded in acknowledgment, checking her watch to make sure that they still were keeping good time. She didn't want to be late for the auction.
"Let's go. I want Conrad to see exactly what half a million in liquid capital looks like on my wrist before opening bidding tonight."
The contract was a masterpiece of "Mutually Assured Destruction," binding two empires together with chains made of gold and legal ink. And it would be the first of many drafted amongst Hills residents.