Fight Until it's Won

To a Vonn, horses were everything, because horses were business. Lilah understood that, maybe too well. But she learned from the best, trailing her father’s footsteps and sipping mint julep in the winner’s circle until she outgrew his footprints and stepped into her own. She learned to breed, to train, to race, to pick the very top prospects and push their talents into something special that would bring her family millions. But she also learned to lie, to manipulate, to peruse the shadows as a socialite and make a home for herself there. In any business, there was shady business, and Lilah, too, understood that. 

She tapped the point of a pencil heel on rich, mahogany floors, impatient. Ancient books lined the shelves around her, probably never touched, much less read, and trinkets and artifacts of gold and brass filled any empty space. A telescope, a globe older than anyone alive, several pieces of crystalware, bottles of scotch and brandy and wine tucked away on display in a glass case. Even to Lilah, it seemed decadent, opulent, over the top. And that was saying something, given the silk sheets that lined her bed and crystal chandelier that hung over it. She hated the room as much as she hated waiting.

 Whenever her father had called her into his study in the past, it always meant one of two things. One, she was in massive amounts of trouble, like the time she had taken initiative and sold off a prized mare without his assent. She conned the slimy businessman who bought her into paying way over what she was worth, so it certainly felt like a win until her father was chewing her out over it, throwing his glass of scotch across the room at her. She didn’t flinch—she never flinched anymore—as it sailed past her head and shattered in the fireplace behind her, glass shards raining down, fire hissing and spitting with the alcohol drizzled in it. 

If Liliah wasn’t in trouble, then there was a serious business decision on the line, one that would affect the whole family’s future. And from her brother’s presence, Ben sitting calmly before the massive, laquered desk at the center of the room, she guessed it was the latter. Lilah couldn’t find her brother’s patience, though, and she stood by the grand bay window at the back of the study, tapping her heel in a steady rhythm as she gazed out at the perfectly manicured lawns. If she looked far enough past the manor grounds, she could make out the stable and pastures, where she should have been meeting with their trainer on the progress of their newest star colt. Whatever her father deemed so important, Lilah just wished he would finally show up and tell her so she could get on with her business. 

“Whatever’s going on, I’m sure it will be fine,” Ben assured quietly, clearly misreading her impatience as anxiety. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I actually do important work around here. I’d like to get back to it,” Lilah replied, short, clipped. Eventually, though, she heaved a sigh and paced from the windows, taking a seat beside Ben in one of the plush leather chairs before her father’s desk. 

Finally, almost like he had been waiting for her frustration to run dry, the heavy doors were thrown open and her father strode inside, some staff member or another pulling the doors shut behind him. With his presence, the silence in the room turned still and heavy, almost grave. Lilah always thought he had an ability to bring down a room like no other. Maybe that was why she had learned to balance, to take charge and turn heads wherever she went. Or maybe she really did just like all the attention, like Ben always said whenever they decided to be open and honest with each other. 

Without any preamble, their father cut straight to the point, sharp and decided. “Effective starting tomorrow, I will be stepping out of Vonn Performance Horses.”

Lilah couldn’t help the grin that broke out across painted lips. She’d been waiting for this day for what felt like a long, long time. This was her chance to take control, to take over. She had been groomed to take her father’s position since she could walk, if for no other reason than that she demanded it. Ben might have been older, might have been the son instead of the daughter, but Lilah accepted no less than the best, and she wouldn’t be cheated out of her place by being born second or born a girl. 

“And who will be taking your place?” she asked, more out of formality than anything. Everyone knew the job was as good as hers. 

“His name is Niall Donovan.”

In an instant, confidence was drained and replaced with shock and fury. “Who the hell is that?” she questioned, shooting up from her chair. Ben just looked stunned, sitting beside her, whereas Lilah’s eyes blazed, and she could feel the betrayal burning in her blood too. 

“A former competitor of ours, just starting out but fiercely competitive. He only had a pair of horses, but they were both star class, and he jumped at the chance to take over the Vonn name as soon as I offered him the position,” her father explained, calm despite her rage. He only plucked a cigar from the ornate case sitting atop his desk, moving to light it. Before he had the chance, Lilah snatched it and threw the whole thing in the fire. The tarry scent of cigar smoke plumed out to overtake the room, the fumes strong enough to sting at Lilah’s lungs, as well as her eyes. 

“Excuse me, what about your children?” she asked furiously. “This is the Vonn family business; it stays in the family,” she insisted. 

However, her father didn’t seem to have any qualms about denying that sentiment. “Neither you nor Ben are fit to lead this operation. You only think with your head and don’t give a second thought to the consequences your decisions may have on the lives of the horses, or our employees. All in service of the bottom line. Ben, you are the opposite. You truly are excellent with the horses, but you’re a bleeding heart, and we aren’t running a charity.”

“Have us work together, then,” Lilah called. “If I’ve got the head and he’s got the heart, we’ll make a good team.”

“She’s right, you know,” Ben finally said, breaking from his quiet stupor. “I’ll look out for the horses and Lilah can look out for the business.” 

Their father only eyed Lilah and reached for another cigar. She let him take it this time, even though her hands itched with the urge to throw the whole wooden case in the fire and watch it go up in flames. That would have been satisfying. 

“If there is one thing I learned from your mother before she left, it’s that nothing good will ever come from having two people on equal footing at the top. One will always fight to be in control, and I won’t have your relationship ruined the way mine was,” he said, lighting the cigar and taking a drag before blowing a stream of smoke just shy of Lilah’s face. 

“So you screw us both,” she countered. 

“Allow me to make this offer,” her father said. “Shape up, and the company will be yours. In a year, I will evaluate the state of the company under Niall’s direction, and if at that point I believe one of you to be the better candidate for the job, it’s yours. Consider this a warning. If neither of you can prove to me that you have what it takes to lead this company, Vonn Performance Horses goes to Niall Donovan.”

With a bitter grin forcing its way onto her lips, Lilah sunk back into her chair. Of course he would pull something like that. It was always games and manipulation with him, challenges to be better and better than the best. But Lilah knew how to play his games, she had ever since she was young, and she wouldn’t let Ben, or heaven forbid this outsider, Niall, take her spot at the top. She was going to win, and she had a year to prove herself. 

“I’d better get back to work, then,” she said, fire in her eyes and a cool smile on her lips. “Clock’s ticking.”