Chapter 4 Aftermath

The library of my father’s estate smelled of old leather and expensive cigars—the scent of power that had suffocated me my entire life.

"You have humiliated this family!"

My father’s shout shook the crystal decanters on the sideboard. He paced in front of the fireplace, his face a dangerous shade of red. "Do you have any idea how much that wedding cost? Do you have any idea who was in that room? Senators! Investors! And you accuse Gavin of... of..."

"Infidelity?" I supplied, sitting calmly in the high-backed armchair. I crossed my legs, smoothing the fabric of the black dress. "And fraud."

"He is a good man!" my father roared. "He has guided Vane Corp through its most difficult quarter! And you slander him at the altar because of some paranoid delusion?"

"It wasn't a delusion, Dad," I said. "He didn't show the phone, did he?"

My father faltered. He waved a dismissive hand. "He was in shock! You attacked him!"

The heavy oak door banged open. Gavin stormed in, followed closely by a weeping Chloe.

"I want her committed," Gavin spat, not even looking at me. He marched straight to my father. "She is mentally unstable, Robert. She needs to be put in a facility. Tonight. I can't have her slander destroying my reputation."

"I didn't do anything!" Chloe sobbed, throwing herself onto the leather sofa. "She just hates me! She’s always been jealous of me!"

I watched them. It was like watching a play I had already seen a hundred times. The bad acting. The manipulation. In my last life, I would have been crying. I would have been apologizing, begging for their forgiveness.

I stood up.

"Stop acting, Gavin. It’s boring."

Gavin spun around. "You think this is a joke? I can sue you for defamation. I can strip you of every penny you have."

"No," I said softly. "You can't."

I walked over to my father’s mahogany desk. I picked up a silver letter opener, twirling it idly between my fingers.

"Because if you try to commit me, or sue me, or force me to marry you..." I looked at my father. "I will call the SEC and tell them about the discrepancies in the Project Titan funding."

The room went deathly silent. The only sound was the crackle of the fire.

My father’s face went pale. "What did you say?"

"Project Titan," I repeated. "The construction deal in Dubai. The one Gavin convinced you to sink forty million dollars into."

I knew about it because, in three months—in the original timeline—the project would collapse. It was a Ponzi scheme. Gavin knew it was risky, but he had taken a kickback to push the deal through. It nearly bankrupted my father, and it was the reason I had been forced to sign over my trust fund to "save the family."

"I know the permits are fake," I lied. Well, I didn't have the proof yet, but I knew the outcome. "I know Gavin took a two-million-dollar 'consulting fee' from the developers that didn't go through the company books."

Gavin looked like he was going to vomit. "That’s... that’s absurd. You have no proof."

"Don't I?" I smiled. It was a shark’s smile. "I know a lot of things, Gavin. I know about the Dubai deal. I know about the apartment you pay for in Soho for Chloe."

Chloe stopped crying instantly. She sat up, eyes wide.

"I want my trust fund," I said, turning to my father. "Full access. Unlocked. Today."

"You're twenty-two," my father stammered. "The trust is locked until you're twenty-five or until you marry."

"Unlock it," I commanded. "Or I make a call to the regulators, and Vane Corp stock drops to zero by tomorrow morning. And Gavin goes to federal prison."

My father looked at Gavin. He saw the sweat on Gavin’s brow. He saw the terror in the eyes of the man he had trusted more than his own daughter.

My father was a businessman first, and a father second. He recognized a leverage play when he saw one.

He slumped his shoulders. "If I give you the money... you leave the company alone? You leave Gavin alone?"

"I want my money," I said. "And I want a seat on the board. Effective immediately."

"A seat?" Gavin shouted. "You're a child! You know nothing about business!"

"I know enough to not buy swamp land in Dubai," I countered.

I walked to the door. I paused, my hand on the brass knob.

"Have the papers drawn up by the morning, Dad. Or I burn the kingdom down."

I looked at Chloe, who was staring at me with a mixture of fear and awe.

"And Chloe?" I said. "You can keep him. I’m done with garbage."

I walked out of the study, leaving the silence of three destroyed people in my wake. I had my freedom. I was about to have my fortune.

Now, I needed a weapon.

I needed Julian Blackwood.