17. Edward
Edward
" Y ou absolute bastard."
Cece Evans burst through my office door, her red hair wild and her eyes blazing with fury. She slammed a thick manila folder onto my desk with enough force to scatter the acquisition papers I'd been staring at for hours, trying to understand how completely I'd been played.
"Miss Evans," I said, standing automatically. "I don't recall having an appointment—"
"Cut the polite British bullshit, Edward. I know exactly what your family did to Lili, and I'm here to make sure you understand the full scope of your Mother's manipulation."
I glanced toward my office door, expecting to see my assistant hovering with apologies for letting an unauthorized visitor through. Instead, the doorway remained empty—apparently Cece had simply bulldozed her way past security through sheer force of will.
"I don't know what you think you've discovered—"
"Sit down and shut up." She opened the folder with the precision of someone presenting evidence in court.
"Because what I've discovered is that your Mother didn't just orchestrate a scandal.
She engineered a hostile takeover using inside information, market manipulation, and what I'm pretty sure amounts to corporate fraud. "
Despite myself, I found myself sitting. Cece's fury was compelling in its intensity, and something in her tone suggested she had information I desperately needed to hear.
"Two months ago, I started noticing irregularities in the financial reporting around Gardens & Home's UK operations," she continued, spreading documents across my desk.
"Suddenly, advertising revenue was down, distribution deals were falling through, and financial projections that had been optimistic in January were mysteriously revised downward by March. "
I looked at the papers she'd arranged—financial statements, emails, what appeared to be recorded phone conversations. "Where did you get these?"
"I have contacts in media finance, Edward. People who know that numbers don't lie the way people do." She pointed to a spreadsheet highlighting revenue discrepancies. "This is the smoking gun. Gardens & Home's UK advertising revenue didn't naturally decline—it was systematically sabotaged."
"Sabotaged how?"
"Your Mother sits on the board of Meridian Holdings, which owns controlling interests in three major advertising agencies.
Those agencies represent approximately sixty percent of Gardens & Home's UK client base.
" Cece's finger traced a line of data. "Between February and April, every single one of those agencies received 'strategic guidance' to redirect their lifestyle programming budgets away from 'niche American content' and toward 'established British broadcasters. '"
The implications hit me like a physical blow. "She tanked the company's revenue to justify the acquisition."
"She didn't just tank it—she created a financial crisis that made Gardens & Home desperate enough to accept any reasonable offer. Your firm's bid wasn't competitive because it was the only option left after she'd eliminated all alternatives."
I studied the documents more carefully, my legal training helping me understand the devastating pattern. Mother hadn't just photographed my relationship with Lili—she'd been systematically destroying Lili's professional life from the moment I'd shown interest.
"There's more," Cece said grimly. "The 'financial irregularities' Malcolm mentioned in his termination call to Lili?
Those were manufactured too. Someone with access to Gardens & Home's internal systems had been creating phantom expenses and hiding revenue to make the books look worse than they actually were. "
"Someone with access..." I trailed off as the full picture emerged. "The firm had been conducting due diligence for months. We had complete access to their financial systems."
"And your Mother had complete access to your firm's findings." Cece's smile was sharp as a blade. "She knew exactly which pressure points to manipulate because you were giving her a real-time roadmap of the company's vulnerabilities."
The betrayal felt complete now. Every conversation I'd had with Mother about the acquisition, every update I'd provided about due diligence progress, every detail I'd shared about timeline and strategy—all of it had been weaponized against the woman I loved.
Before I could fully process the scope of the manipulation, my office door opened again. James entered, looking haggard and guilty, his usual composed demeanor completely absent.
"Edward, I—" He stopped when he saw Cece, then managed a weak smile that held only shadows of his usual charm. "I didn't realize you had company. Though I suppose I should have expected Ms. Evans to find her way here eventually."
Even now, even in the midst of confession, James couldn't help but try to disarm the situation with diplomatic compliments.
"Mr. Atwood." Cece's voice carried a note of grim satisfaction. "Perfect timing. I was just explaining to Edward how his Mother orchestrated the destruction of Lili's career. Perhaps you'd like to add your contribution to the conversation?"
James moved to his usual chair—the same seat he'd occupied during countless late-night strategy sessions, friendly debates, and moments of genuine camaraderie.
Twenty years of friendship, and he still knew exactly where to sit. "I suppose there's no point in pretending anymore."
"The photographer," I said quietly, my voice becoming softer as the betrayal sank in, I'd never had to question James's loyalty. "You knew about the photographer."
James met my eyes for the first time since entering, and I saw something break in his expression. "Edward—"
"You knew ." The words came out barely above a whisper, though the quiet made them more devastating than any shout. "My oldest friend. My closest confidant. The man who's been lecturing me about honesty and trust for weeks. You knew."
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
" James leaned forward, his diplomat's instincts kicking in even as his voice cracked with genuine remorse.
"Your Mother approached me two weeks after Lili arrived.
She said she was concerned about your attachment.
She framed it as protecting you from making a mistake that could damage your career. "
I studied his face—the same face that had laughed with me through Oxford, celebrated my professional victories, been my anchor through every family crisis. "And you believed her?"
"I believed she had your best interests at heart.
I believed that sometimes friends have to make difficult choices to protect each other from themselves.
" James's smile was self-deprecating, tinged with the bitter humor he'd always used to deflect from painful truths.
"Rather naive of me, considering I was simultaneously conducting my own secret affair with your sister. "
The casual way he acknowledged his relationship with Daphne—our shared secret, our mutual hypocrisy—somehow made the betrayal cut deeper. We'd both been living lies, but only one of us had been actively sabotaging the other.
"How long have you been helping her document my private life?"
"Three weeks of surveillance. Professional photographer, former MI5 apparently—your Mother doesn't do things by halves.
" James's voice carried a note of reluctant admiration that made my stomach turn.
"The photos were supposed to be insurance, Edward.
Leverage to convince you to end things quietly before they became professionally problematic. "
"But they became public scandal anyway."
"That wasn't the original plan." James stood, moving to the window with the restless energy I'd seen him display during difficult negotiations. "The photos were supposed to remain private unless... unless other methods of persuasion failed."
"Other methods like destroying Lili's company?"
"I didn't know about the financial manipulation until Cece called me this morning." The words came out sharp, defensive. "Your Mother compartmentalized her strategy. I only knew my piece of it."
Cece made a sound of disgust. "Plausible deniability. How very convenient."
"It wasn't convenient," James shot back, then caught himself. "I'm sorry. I know how this looks. I know what I've done to our friendship."
The formal apology hung between us like a death sentence.
In twenty years, James had never apologized to me with such careful, diplomatic language. It felt like watching our friendship die in real time.
"You sat in my office," I said, my voice dropping to the tone that made opposing counsel nervous in court depositions. "You pretended to be concerned about my welfare while actively participating in my Mother's scheme to destroy the woman I love."
"I was concerned about your welfare. That was never pretense.
" James turned back to face me, and for the first time, I saw him without his diplomatic mask.
"I watched you falling apart under the pressure of secrets.
I watched you compromise your professional judgment for someone you'd known mere weeks.
I thought... Christ, Edward, I thought I was saving you from yourself. "
"By betraying me."
"By trying to prevent a larger catastrophe.
" His voice cracked slightly. "You have to understand—I've watched your Mother operate many times.
I know what she's capable of when she perceives a threat to family interests.
I thought if we gave her what she wanted quietly, privately, Lili could be protected from the worst of it. "
The rationalization was so perfectly James—logical, diplomatic, completely missing the fundamental point about trust and loyalty.
"Protected?" I stood slowly, feeling the familiar calm that preceded my most devastating cross-examinations. "Lili lost her job, her visa status, her entire life in England. In what possible interpretation is that 'protection'?"