Chapter 41
I’d spent days uncovering the depths of Marshall’s crimes.
Britt shared what she’d witnessed at his parties.
The gatherings were labeled as “work events,” even though alcohol was served in generous quantities, and NDAs ensured no one talked about anything that happened afterward.
While she wasn’t one of Marshall’s victims, she’d observed Laurel “handling” specific guests and selecting which women would be invited to join Drew in his private quarters.
These patterns of behavior could only be described as blatant harassment, misconduct, and abuse of power. Their actions were abhorrent.
Britt gave me the names of three women she thought might have been victims of Marshal’s misdeeds but doubted they would talk to me.
She was right. The fear this man and Laurel instilled in these women to keep silent was heartbreaking.
One woman refused. She told me never to call her again and hung up.
The others—Amie and Siobhan—required much coaxing.
With assurances that I would protect their anonymity, they confided their stories with tears and humiliation.
They described having sex with Marshall on more than one occasion for fear of losing their jobs.
Because they received money and opportunities as promised, they thought that made it consensual.
I explained that it didn’t matter how they may have benefited.
It could not have been consensual as there was an imbalance of power, and threats had been made.
That’s what he preyed on, their fear and their shame afterward.
By the time Sunday dinner rolled around, I had lined up all my facts to present to my father. This was too much for even him to ignore. He would hate what I’d done, but he’d be compelled to act. I wouldn’t give him a choice.
That evening, I’m let into the house I grew up in by a new housekeeper.
My mother fires them as quickly as they’re hired, always finding some fault.
The towering ceilings and cold marble floors are as familiar as they are suffocating.
But I’m fueled by my resolve and the stories from Sophia, Amie, and Siobhan.
I enter the dining room, staged to perfection, a tableau of wealth and luxury.
My mother is fussing with the flower arrangements.
She looks like she’s ready for a magazine shoot.
Tall and wispy thin, she’s wearing a sheath dress that is black elegance, and her ears drip with diamonds.
Her dark bob is immaculately styled, and her makeup is flawless.
She glances across the room, her blue gaze sweeping over me.
Her lips purse a moment, then she forces a smile that’s too affected to be genuine.
“Alexandra, darling.” She clicks forward on her Louboutins and places a perfunctory kiss on each of my cheeks.
The familiar scent of her expensive perfume carries with it a rush of unpleasant memories.
“I’ll have Tatianna get you scheduled for a cut and style, a manicure too, of course.
And a hot body wrap. You’ll feel so much better. ”
“I feel perfectly fine. I don’t want any of those things.”
“This is a new look, then?” she asks, her slender hand fluttering to her chest.
I know what she meant. She’d calculated the added pounds with the accuracy of a scale and disapproved of my scant makeup, short unpainted nails, and wavy hair. But I like this version of myself—and so does Chaz.
“Yes, it’s my preference. I think it suits me.”
She sighs, long-suffering, and pours a glass of wine. “I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly become someone we don’t recognize.”
“This is me, Mother. The real me. Not the doll you dressed up to parade around. I’m making my own choices now. Finally.”
She recoils on a sharp inhale. “What a horrible and ungrateful thing to say.”
“I’m not doing this with you. I’m not playing along while you make yourself the victim in your delusion of perfect parenthood.”
“Then why did you even come for dinner?”
“I shouldn’t have, but I need to speak to my father. Where is he?”
“In his office. You’ve ruined the lovely evening I had planned.” She presses a hand to her temple. “This uncouth, brashness smacks of Jordyn Sinclair. I told your father we should never have tolerated that association.”
“Tolerated?” I let out a mocking laugh. “I’m a grown woman. You cannot choose my friends. Jordyn is an incredible person. I wish I had half her brashness.”
“I can see there’s no reasoning with you. Your father was right. You’re going through another stage of rebellion to hurt us.”
I shake my head. “It’s not always about you two. It’s about me, and I’m not going to explain myself further.”
She’s fanning herself as if I’ve caused her physical distress when I hear my father’s voice approaching. I turn, ready to face him. But he’s not alone.
“Alexandra,” my father greets me, his tone as measured as if we were in a boardroom. His gaze flickers over my improper appearance, his expression tightening.
But it’s not he who’s caught my attention; it’s Richard. Polished as ever in a crisp navy blazer and shiny wingtips, his smile falters when he sees me. Anger boils beneath my skin. Their singular focus on how I look is infuriating.
Richard recovers from the shock and crosses to me, his voice monotone and rehearsed. “It’s nice to see you, Alexandra. How was your trip?”
“It was fantastic. I learned so much about myself.”
“Sounds productive. I look forward to catching up and getting reacquainted.”
Was I really with this man for two years? A man who moved and spoke like an emotionless robot? Who scheduled sex on a calendar? Who said romantic love was a fool’s notion? I can’t even fathom how I allowed myself to go along with this. The contrasts between him and Chaz couldn’t be more striking.
“There will be no getting reacquainted, Richard,” I say bluntly. “My father clearly orchestrated this charade. I’m sure he promised you I’d fall back in line. But while a loveless marriage may be acceptable to you, it’s not acceptable to me.”
“Alexandra!” My father’s voice sharpens, outrage coloring his face. “We’re going to sit down for a civilized dinner, and you will regain your deportment. You’re upsetting your mother.”
I feel like I’m in the middle of bad reality TV. Richard looks aghast, and my mother dramatically sways as if a strong wind is blowing her.
“I won’t be staying for dinner.” I level my gaze at him. “I have important information on Drew Marshall. Do you want to discuss it here or in your office?”
His eyes narrow. “I will not discuss such matters in my home. Make an appointment to see me during the week.”
“Sure. If you’d rather risk being blindsided by a scandal, we can do it your way.”
He scowls but gestures me toward his office. Once seated behind his ornate desk, his eyes narrow, and he impatiently demands, “Well? What is so urgent?”
I waste no time giving him the details of the parties, the NDAs, and the accounts from the women I’d spoken with. His jaw tightens to the snapping point, his face growing redder with every word.
“You sought out these women,” he responds when I’m done, his indignation directed at me instead of Drew. “Your disloyalty is appalling.”
“So, I take it you’re standing behind your golden boy?”
“This isn’t about Drew. Emotion is clouding your judgment.”
“My judgment is crystal clear. I won’t turn a blind eye and cover this up.”
“You would risk your legacy over such nonsense?”
“Young women being coerced and threatened into having sex with one of your executives is nonsense?”
“Yes, Alexandra, it is. What you call coercion, I call women looking to jump on a gravy train that you presented to them.”
I stand then, staring him down. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to sink any lower, but you have managed to scrape the very bottom.
I’m resigning from Townsen and the board.
If you choose to protect Marshall, be forewarned you will go down with him.
And before you try to threaten me with Chaz, just know that if you do anything to harm him or his business, I will expose all the dysfunctions of this family.
Do you think your wife can handle that?”
Without waiting for a response, I walk out of his office and out of their house.
The click of the door behind me feels final, and it hurts more than I expected.
I sit in my car, shaking, willing the tears away. I’ve done the right thing, but I feel hollowed out. Alone. And the one person I need the most is over a hundred miles away.