Chapter Thirty
Savannah left, and he braced for a fight.
She’d kept looking at him, silently pleading for his intervention. He’d ached to defend her, but to save her, he had to hear all the so-called evidence against her. Arguing or taking her side would have halted the discovery process.
His mother and sister were out for blood; they didn’t just want to get rid of her—they intended to break her.
Since Benson, who was guilty, had fled, Savannah had become the scapegoat for the crime, but their intentions were more personal than that.
His mother would use her alleged guilt to discredit him; his sister wished to hurt her to make him suffer.
He lacked people skills, except for one—discernment. He had a preternatural ability to size people up instantly. He’d never been wrong.
His sister was vindictive, petty, and venal.
His mother was a competent, astute leader, except for the massive blind spot involving Corona. In her eyes, her daughter could do no wrong.
Savannah was as loyal as they came. She wouldn’t lie or steal. If she had a failing, it was that she put her trust in the wrong people. Like him. He’d let her down again and again. And like Benson.
The man had raised Stratos’ suspicions the instant he met him.
With Aaia’s help, he had implemented his own surveillance and succeeded in correlating designs stolen to Benson’s rotations.
He had been the one to point Rogan in the human’s direction.
Until then, Elara and Kyra had been the investigator’s top suspects.
Successful in clearing them, Stratos never guessed the evidence against Benson could be used against Savannah.
No doubt Benson had befriended Savannah because she worked in R his mother was direct. Corona would stab a person in the back; his mother would look him in the eye as she slit his throat.
“Because a mother demoting her own son would lead to a public relations disaster and a battle with the board of directors. To avoid blowback, the decision has to come from you. It must be perceived as voluntary. Everyone knows you love design. Truly, it is your calling. If you step down as VP saying you wish to return to design full-time, people will believe it.”
He was never happier than when he pursued an idea and immersed himself in creation.
But a mere designer couldn’t safeguard the company.
Corona knew nothing. Did nothing. She coveted the title but shirked the work.
How she had fooled their otherwise-astute mother, he couldn’t fathom.
He wouldn’t put his sister in charge of a food cart.
And the company his father had spent his life building?
Never. He couldn’t let her destroy his father’s legacy.
He would never become CEO, but his mother was right about one thing. As a vice president, he could mitigate Corona’s bad decisions.
“And if I don’t sign this?”
“Then I’ll have no choice but to have Ms. Mays arrested and prosecuted.”