CHAPTER 13 #2
Sitting next to Simon is the blonde receptionist. She is wearing a pale blue dress, looking entirely out of her depth.
"Malcolm," Preston says, his voice cutting through the silence. He doesn't stand up. He doesn't offer a greeting. He just gestures toward the two empty chairs on his left. "You’re late."
"Traffic," Malcolm replies smoothly, guiding me toward the chairs.
He pulls out the chair closest to Preston for me. I sit down, keeping my spine perfectly straight. Malcolm sits next to me, placing himself between me and the rest of the room.
Simon is sitting directly across from me.
I look at him. I don't look away. I don't drop my gaze to the table. I stare straight into the eyes of the man who stole four years of my life and the company I built.
Simon swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing against his collar. He looks away first, grabbing his water glass with a slightly trembling hand.
A fierce, dark satisfaction blooms in my chest.
I am not the prey.
"So," Preston says, resting his hands flat on the mahogany table. He looks at me, his eyes cold and calculating. "Audrey Jennings. You have managed to cause quite a disruption in my family’s schedule."
"I apologize for the inconvenience," I say, my voice perfectly even. "But I assure you, my schedule has been equally disrupted recently."
Preston’s eyes narrow slightly. He didn't expect me to talk back. He expected the quiet, accommodating girl Simon used to bring to dinner.
"Let us dispense with the pleasantries," Preston says, leaning forward slightly. "I know exactly what you are doing, Miss Jennings. You are angry with Simon. You feel slighted. You feel that you are owed compensation for the dissolution of your business arrangement."
"It wasn't a business arrangement," I correct him. "It was theft."
Simon flinches, almost dropping his glass. "Audrey, please. We agreed to handle this through the lawyers."
"We didn't agree to anything, Simon," I say, my voice dropping to a cold, hard register. "You locked me out of my office and hid behind a shell corporation."
"Enough," Preston snaps, his voice echoing in the large room. He looks at Malcolm. "You brought her here to make a point. The point is made. Now, tell me how much it is going to cost to make this ridiculous charade go away."
Malcolm leans back in his chair. He doesn't look angry. He looks entirely bored.
"You misunderstand the situation, Father," Malcolm says quietly. "This is not a negotiation. I am not here to ask for a settlement. I am here to introduce you to my fiancée."
Preston lets out a harsh, bitter laugh. "You expect me to believe that you are marrying this woman? A woman with a history of financial instability? A woman whose mother has filed for bankruptcy twice?"
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Simon found it. He found the debt. Russo must have sent the files before Malcolm bought the laptop.
I freeze, the blood draining from my face. I can feel Simon looking at me, a desperate, triumphant gleam returning to his eyes. He thinks he has the upper hand. He thinks he found the weapon that will break me.
I open my mouth to defend myself, to explain that the debt wasn't mine, but Malcolm speaks first.
"You are misinformed," Malcolm says. His voice is so calm it is terrifying.
Preston frowns. "I am never misinformed, Malcolm. I have the financial records."
"You have outdated records," Malcolm corrects smoothly.
He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a folded piece of heavy, watermarked paper.
He tosses it onto the center of the table.
"Barbara Jennings has zero outstanding debt.
Her medical collections were paid in full yesterday afternoon.
She currently holds a secure trust fund managed by Vance Security. "
Simon stares at the paper. The triumph vanishes from his face, replaced by absolute horror.
Preston doesn't look at the paper. He looks at Malcolm.
"You paid her debts," Preston says, his voice dangerously low.
"I secured my fiancée’s assets," Malcolm replies. "Just as I secured her physical safety. If anyone in this room attempts to investigate her family again, I will consider it an act of corporate espionage against my division. And I will respond accordingly."
The silence in the dining room is absolute.
Simon looks like he is going to be sick. The blonde receptionist is staring at her plate, terrified to move.
Preston Vance stares at his oldest son. For the first time since I walked into this house, I see the patriarch of the Vance family realize that he has completely lost control of the board.
Malcolm doesn't look at his father. He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine.
You are not a liability.
I look back at Simon. I don't feel anger anymore. I just feel pity. He is a small, weak man hiding behind his father’s money, and he just realized that he picked a fight with the devil.
"Now," Malcolm says, turning back to the table and picking up his water glass. "What is for dinner?"