My Husband Faked His Death Chapter 11

My Husband Faked His Death Chapter 11

I was tempted. The Sullivan Group was a giant. A partnership with him would bring nothing but benefits. I opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat.
“Why can you only rest easy about the partnership once the company is mine?”
Ryan glanced at me and chuckled. “I know what my adoptive nephew is capable of. He can handle small money, but big money…”
He trailed off, but I understood completely.
In all the years I’d built the business with Jake, his biggest contribution was flashing his last name to make people back off.
Most of the time, he just played around with his CEO title. The deals that really mattered—I was the one who closed them.
“The contract is on my lap. You can take a look.”
My eyes landed on the contract resting near his thigh. I hesitated. “Ryan, could you hand it to me?”
“I’m driving. My hands can’t leave the wheel.”
I coughed awkwardly, reached over, pinched a corner of the contract with my thumb and forefinger, and quickly pulled it to myself.
Every term in the contract was fair. But for Ryan, that kind of fairness was practically a loss.
I closed the contract. “Ryan, let’s cut to the chase. You’re offering such generous terms. What do you need from me?”
His eyes stayed on the road, his voice steady. “I need you to personally oversee this project.”
I was a little surprised, then nodded. “Of course. For such an important partnership, I’ll definitely handle it myself.”