“It’s not a game,” I said, cutting across him. “Games are for people who still have options.”
Now I had his full attention.
Good.
Because the real reason I had come was not revenge alone. Revenge is messy when it stands by itself. I came because, three weeks earlier, my legal team discovered Marlowe Industrial had submitted falsified stability statements while seeking emergency financing tied to distribution contracts. They were shopping for rescue money while hiding unpaid obligations. And buried in the supporting documents were signatures I recognized immediately: Richard’s, Vanessa’s as incoming brand partner, and my mother’s as board witness.
In other words, the family business that had cast me out to protect itself was now trying to survive on deception.
And they had chosen my property for the announcement of a merger they could not actually afford to complete.
Jonathan frowned. “Vanessa, what is she talking about?”
Vanessa snapped, “Nothing. She always does this. She shows up, causes drama, tries to ruin important events because she can’t stand not being the center of attention.”
That lie might have worked once.
But then one of the guests near the back—Stuart Levin, a venture attorney who had closed two deals with my firm—said clearly, “I know who she is.”
