Larissa Judson and Haskell Palmer novel Chapter 37

Paxton’s brow furrowed as he listened to Vivica. He could tolerate a lot, but he would not stand for anyone threatening his sons’ careers.

“It’s absolutely true. I wish I had recorded it for you to hear. I was so angry I nearly fainted!” Vivica said, then took a large gulp of water to soothe her burning throat.

Paxton grew pensive. “It seems she is determined to cut us out of her life. I can tolerate her attitude, but if she truly dares to covet the Judson fortune, I won’t spare her, even if she is my daughter.”

“So, tonight, when it comes to signing the agreement, we don’t try to stop her?” Vivica asked.

“A daughter like that is a liability. It’s better to sever ties completely. If she gets into any trouble in the future, it will be Neville and Sapphira’s problem, not ours,” Paxton declared.

He would not allow anyone to jeopardize his sons’ futures. Both of their careers were flourishing. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the entire Judson fortune would one day be theirs. But now, Larissa’s return had introduced an unpredictable variable into how Kiernan might divide the estate.

The priority was to marry her off to the now-worthless Haskell Palmer as quickly as possible, removing her from the Judson family for good.

“The marriage alliance with Haskell must be transferred to Larissa. I want you to see to it immediately,” Paxton ordered Vivica sternly.

Vivica understood. “I know. There’s no way we’re letting Honora marry that cripple now. If anyone is going to, it will be the true Judson heiress, Larissa. I’ll find a time tomorrow to bring it up with Kiernan.”

…

Finley’s eyes turned to ice. “What did you just say?”

Realizing he was as good as fired anyway, Magnus decided to speak his mind. “Sir, have you considered how sought-after this novel is? It’s Field of Lari’s last unpublished work. It’s not just us; every major entertainment company is vying for it. Even if we could contact the author, there’s no guarantee they would sell the rights to us.”

The pressure in the room dropped.

Finley let out a cold laugh. “Then what am I paying you for? Do you expect me to do it myself?”