At three-thirty, her father and Peter landed in Stockholm. Peter texted her from the taxi.
Dad wants you to come over to their place. At six.
Her fingers cold and trembling, she replied that she’d be there.
This nightmare had only begun.
When she left the office at five-thirty, David still hadn’t responded to a single one of her texts or voice mails.
34
Feeling as if she were still wrapped in a thick fog of shock, Natalia took a taxi out to her parents’ villa in Djursholm. Her mother, father, Peter, Louise, and Åsa were already there. Her father’s face was like a stiff mask, and he hardly greeted her. Peter looked like he’d aged several years in just a few days. Her mother and Louise each sat, straight-backed in antique chairs, wringing their hands, like pale women from the 1800s. All that was missing were the smelling salts and fans.
Her mother’s housecleaner, Gina, the same young woman who cleaned for Natalia, served them tea. She slid through the room silently, moving among them. Peter waved her away in irritation, but Natalia gratefully accepted a cup. “Thank you so much,” she murmured. Åsa was standing by the window talking on her phone. She took a cup of tea without looking at Gina.
Natalia turned to her father and brother. “What’s the news?” she asked.
“There will be an extraordinary general meeting in two weeks,” Peter said bitterly. “He wants to re-vote on the board.”
“Do we know who he’s suggesting?”
“Yes. And there’s not a single name from the old board, not even anyone from the family, and we own the company. It’s so fucking arrogant.”
Swapping out the whole board—that was so unusual that Natalia wasn’t sure she’d ever heard of it being done. Replacing every single one, not utilizing the expertise and knowledge that was there; it was a motion of censure that was so arrogant she never would have believed it from anyone else. But she could believe it from David.
“He wants to take over completely, wipe us out; there’s no doubt about it. That son of a bitch.”
“Has anyone called Eugene?” Natalia asked.
“Why should we call him?” Peter’s voice was snappy as he cast an unobtrusive glance at his father. Åsa finished her phone call and looked at Natalia.
Mother and Louise didn’t say anything. It was like a chamber play, claustrophobic and stuffy with a frighteningly predictable plot. Her father’s icy fury, Peter’s overwrought breakdown, Åsa’s gloomy face. And an ending that would change everything.
Natalia set down her cup. She hadn’t eaten all day and was starting to feel dizzy. It was so quiet. Every time someone said something, it sounded louder than usual. All of Djursholm was quiet. No one was home at this time of year. It was like a ghost town of million-kronor mansions where only the gardeners and cleaning-service employees moved about discreetly, like shadows. “I suppose we’re going to have to talk to everyone who holds A-shares,” she said, realizing her voice sounded calm. Her whole body felt as if it was about to fall apart. Her heart was racing, her lungs heaving; sometimes she thought she went numb for a moment, but then she forced herself to focus on the practical matters, refused to let herself feel. Every now and then, an emotion managed to force its way in, a streak of profound despair, but so far she’d managed to hold it at bay.
She wondered how much longer she would be able to do so. She glanced at Peter, who had his hands in his pockets. He must have a bunch of keys in his pocket that he was squeezing over and over again. The jingling sound was driving her crazy. “Do you know anything about why he’s doing this?” she asked.
“Because he’s insane,” Peter hissed back.
Åsa stared at Natalia. At that moment, Natalia wished she’d never confided in her about what she’d done with David. What was happening was so egregious. The shame, the sadness, the rage—all of these painful emotions would be easier to bear if she didn’t also have to deal with Åsa’s reaction. She looked Åsa in the eye and then turned back to Peter again. “This could have to do with something else, couldn’t it?” she asked persistently.
“What do you mean by that?” he snapped.
But despite his denial, Natalia knew she was on the right track, because Peter suddenly looked pale. She continued, “I know something happened between you at Skogbacka. Could what’s happening now have something to do with that?”
“What are you talking about?” her mother asked indignantly. “Natalia, that man is crazy, a nouveau-riche upstart who’s trying to make a name for himself at our expense.”
“But ...,” Natalia began. She wasn’t trying to defend David, but she wanted to understand what was at the root of this. What were they hiding?
“He’s done this before,” her father said curtly. It was the first time he’d said anything since Natalia had arrived. “To other companies. I really never thought he would dare take on Investum. But he’s done this exact same thing before. On a smaller scale.”
“Tell me,” Natalia said.
“The moment David Hammar gets it into his head that someone has wronged him, he takes his revenge in every way he can,” Gustaf said, and Natalia knew that what he was saying was the truth. She knew it because she knew David. She looked around for a place to sit. She found a chair.
“David Hammar already crushed one man who went to Skogbacka with him, a classmate who hadn’t done a thing to him, but I suppose David imagined something. He took over the man’s company and completely butchered it.”
Mother sniffled softly.
“And then David seduced the man’s wife,” Gustaf continued. “Just to humiliate him completely. That poor man never recovered.” Her father looked at her. “Hammar is a psychopath, Natalia, he has no conscience.”
Peter nodded. “He’s crazy,” he said. “You could already tell at school. He couldn’t accept the rules that everyone else followed. He never understood how things worked. And now he does this.”
“But that’s terrible,” her mother said. “Can’t he be reported?”
Natalia was feeling sicker and sicker. Was Peter right? Were these the acts of a crazy man? How many people had David gone after?
He’d seduced his enemy’s wife to humiliate him.
Her head started spinning. Everyone else’s agitated voices floated around her.
David had tricked her. Suddenly she saw that very clearly. David had used her to get at her family. That’s what their original lunch had been about. He had been looking for weaknesses. He wasn’t just out to take over Investum. He wanted to crush her entire family. Using her. Terrible things had happened between David and Peter—hazing, abuse, whipping—and now David was exacting his revenge.
Åsa was trying to catch her eye again, but Natalia looked away. She didn’t want to believe that this was true, but there were heaps of evidence, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
She had continued to text David, over and over again. Countless times, almost compulsively. He hadn’t responded a single time. Of course he hadn’t. Because she meant nothing. She was just a means to achieving a goal, a pawn in a dirty game. She was so stupid, so unbelievably stupid. She wanted to double over and wail. The shame was almost unbearable. Shame at what she was, at what she had believed she’d meant to him. And guilt at what she’d done . . . She closed her eyes. Oh my God, what had she done?
35
“Let’s go sit on the terrace,” David said, getting a beer from the fridge in their office kitchenette. It was a warm evening, and there were plenty of nice chairs up there.
Malin and Michel—the only ones from the management group who were still at the office—each grabbed a bottle and nodded. The head of personnel and the CFO had gone home fifteen minutes earlier. The last of the rest of the staff had also left for the day. Only the three of them remained after what had definitely been the most eventful day in Hammar Capital’s history.
“Good job,” David said, and they clinked their bottles in silent cheers before they each sat
down on the terrace. The sun had sunk down toward the horizon, and the water—the terrace had a terrific view of it—sparkled blue with some fire-colored hues.
“What a day,” said Malin, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet up on a stool.
“Mmm,” said Michel, and he took a big swig from his chilled bottle.
The press releases had continued to flow out of Hammar Capital all day long. The office had been practically besieged. Malin and her assistants had worked tirelessly and effectively, and David was proud of them. They were a good team. And Malin had appeared on every TV channel today, both on regular TV and online, sounding calm, collected, and professional.
“Good job, yourself,” she said, but he could tell she appreciated the praise.
David had also been on pretty much every TV station. He’d done a number of interviews from the conference room in front of the Hammar Capital logo. He’d answered the same questions that Malin had fielded, over and over again for what felt like hours. Every single financial journalist he’d ever talked to had sought him out, and he had made time for most of them. He was sure he’d never talked so much in his life.
“It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, too,” Michel said.
“The next several weeks are going to be long,” Malin predicted.
“And while you two put on a good show on live TV, our staff did a wonderful job back here at the office,” Michel said. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were wrinkled, and for once he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket. He was right. Their team had manned their positions. Everyone had worked hard and intently. David, who had handpicked every single one of his coworkers, was proud of them.
“If we sold everything today, we would make a real killing,” Michel mused. Investum’s stock price had shot through the roof. The papers were already calling this the Hammar effect.
“I’m going home,” Malin said, yawning behind her hand. “My husband is starting to forget what I look like.”
“And your children?”
“They’re so content to have their father at home,” Malin said, making a face. “I’m pretty sure my chances of winning a gold medal for motherhood have passed me by.” She set down her beer bottle and put her shoes back on. “See you tomorrow.”
David and Michel said good-bye to Malin and continued sitting there next to each other. Michel drank his beer with his eyes closed. It was totally quiet now that all the phones were turned off. Listening to all the ringing had been too much, and they’d decided to shut everything off an hour ago. They wouldn’t be contactable for a few hours. David only had his private phone on, but the volume was off. He looked at it where it sat silently. The texts from Natalia had stopped coming a while ago.
“It’s going to be brutal tomorrow,” Michel said.
“Oh yes,” said David.
The papers had already started digging into their backgrounds. It wouldn’t be long before someone started wondering about the Skogbacka connection. The most bizarre rumors were already circulating, and they were still just a faint breeze compared to what was to come.
Tomorrow Malin would start leaking the information she had on Gustaf and Peter. Things that would not be at all favorable to them. Things that would discredit their positions at Investum, things involving secret agreements and favorable deals. Of course it would affect the entire De la Grip family, he thought. Even Natalia.
“Have you talked to her?” Michel asked slowly.
David shook his head. It was difficult for him not to feel like a complete asshole. “And you?” he asked, shoving aside the almost overwhelming feelings of guilt. “Have you heard anything from Åsa?”
Michel raised one eyebrow sarcastically. “Yes, I have,” he said. “Åsa left a very detailed voice message on my cell.” He scratched the stubble on his scalp. “That woman could win Olympic gold in insults. But after that, nothing. It’s almost worse that she doesn’t say anything.”
“They want to see us—the family, I mean.”
Michel brought his beer bottle to his lips and drank. He set the bottle down. “What did you say?”
“We’re going to see them tomorrow. Malin is going to arrange a neutral location, probably the Grand Hôtel. We don’t really want them here. And it’s not like we’re going to be welcome at their place.” David laughed joylessly. “They’ll be armed to the teeth with lawyers.” He gave Michel a warning glance. “And you can count on Åsa being there. She’s their best.” He hoped Natalia wouldn’t be there. There was no reason for her to attend, but you never knew.
“Well, that is going to be one delightful meeting,” Michel muttered.
“Exactly.” But David was glad he’d told Michel about Skogbacka. Even though he hadn’t told him everything, of course. Not the part about Carolina.
“Maybe we ought to go home and get a little sleep,” Michel said, stretching so that his joints popped. “Are you going too?”
“Soon.”
Michel said good-bye and left, but David sat there, looking at the sky.
He had fantasized for so long about how this moment would feel, how it would be to finally get his revenge. In a way he’d thought it would fulfill him, fundamentally change him, that the act of breaking up and destroying Investum would feel good.
He sat for a long time as the midnight sun disappeared and the sky grew dark. The strange thing was that he didn’t feel anything. He was just empty.
36
Tuesday, July 15
The next day Åsa arrived at the Grand Hôtel with Gustaf and Peter in Investum’s company car, complete with chauffeur. The mood in the car was tense. Even more Investum lawyers followed in the car behind them, like some kind of suit-wearing private army.
The cars stopped, and everyone got out and walked into the hotel in a line.
David and Michel were already waiting in one of the conference rooms, serious and unwavering.
As Gustaf and Peter sat down at one end of the table, the lawyers fanned out in an almost comical fight to get the best, most strategic, most prestigious seats. Åsa nodded briefly to a junior attorney that he should move, and then she sat down next to Gustaf. She crossed her legs, heard her thin pantyhose rustling, and forced herself to look unaffected, almost bored, before she looked Michel in the eye for the first time. They hadn’t seen or spoken to each other since they’d had coffee in Båstad. But that wasn’t so strange, she thought morosely, given that he must have been extremely busy planning his hostile takeover of her boss’s company.
Michel’s long eyelashes trembled when their eyes met. His chest heaved inside his garish shirt—she didn’t think she’d ever seen a man wearing such a pink garment. She nodded cursorily, as if they were strangers, as if he didn’t concern her in the least.
Somehow he had managed to penetrate her defenses, but she would never let him see that. Her only goal today was to get through this meeting without losing her cool. Otherwise she had no expectations that this would be anything other than a massacre.
She had consistently advised Gustaf not to attend this meeting. But did Sweden’s leading patriarch listen to her? No. So he, Peter, and all the young legal bucks had only themselves to blame. She would wash her hands of it. As the only woman here, she would observe what happened. And then, she thought, she would go home and get hammered on everything in her bar cabinet. Not her most Nobel-Prize-worthy plan, but still. She brusquely ordered one of her subordinates to keep the minutes. She absolutely refused to be a damn secretary.
The meeting degenerated rather quickly. Investum’s lawyers started talking in loud, superior voices. They blurted out a continuous stream of legal complaints and objections, read aloud from memos, and waved their gold-signet-ring-laden fingers. It was downright tiresome, and Åsa had to pinch her thigh to keep herself from yawning. She glowered at Michel while her subordinates kept rattling off nonsense phrases they must have been practicing all night in front of the mirror.
Gustaf sat by in haughty silence. He alternated between shooting
David icy glares and ignoring him completely.
Peter did not succeed in looking equally unfazed. He was obviously shocked and aggrieved. His face was red, and he radiated a corona of rage. Peter ought to be careful that he didn’t have a heart attack or something.
Åsa looked at the two men from Hammar Capital, watching them as she pretended to write on her notepad.
David Hammar really was unbelievably attractive, like a fucking supermodel. And he looked so controlled sitting there in his tailor-made suit, as if he weren’t physically capable of being nervous.
Åsa would never, ever admit it, but David scared her a little.
She moved on to the man next to him, steeling herself against the feelings she was so reluctant to accept. Michel was also calm, of course, even though she could tell from his black eyes that he had emotions. He wasn’t able to look quite as cold as David. Michel had always had pathos and passion and couldn’t quite hide that now. His insanely long eyelashes fluttered. Damn, he was hot.
They weren’t getting anywhere at all.
Åsa’s head was starting to throb. She gave Gustaf a meaningful look. End this.
Gustaf nodded, as if he’d heard her. Despite his poorly hidden disdain for women, he usually listened to her advice—it had something to do with her having an even more refined pedigree than he did, combined with the fact that she never got into a conflict with him—and after yet more meaningless phrases and poorly veiled threats, they marched out. The owners, her, and a whole mob of lawyers.
No one shook hands with anyone.
“What do we do now?” asked Peter when they sat back down in the car.
He was looking at Åsa, but she was staring out the window.
No fucking idea. They’re going to tear us to shreds.
“We’ll have to wait and see,” she said, thinking it didn’t matter what Michel did to her or her boss, remembering how he’d tricked her with his fancy words about wanting to talk and get to know her, all the while planning this goddamned takeover.
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