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Chapter 13 - ADRIAN’S BETRAYAL

Adrian had copied the file.

He admitted it.

Not for Celeste.

For his mother.

Margaret was terrified Blackthorn would be dragged into Harrow Crest’s collapse.

She wanted leverage with lenders.

Adrian gave her the plan.

Margaret gave it to her banker.

The banker leaked it.

One stupid chain.

No evil mastermind.

Just fear.

Sometimes that is worse.

Adrian kept apologizing.

I stopped him.

“You watched Celeste hurt people because you wanted a peaceful weekend.”

He looked down.

“You leaked my medical records because you wanted to control a story.”

He nodded.

“You copied a confidential restructuring plan because you were afraid.”

“I know.”

“You keep choosing the easiest wrong thing.”

That landed.

He sat down.

“I don’t know how to fix that.”

“Neither do I.”

I left.

Dad did not tell me what to do.

Thank God.

Then the lenders suspended talks.

Harrow Crest had forty-eight hours before a major default.

Victor begged Dad to inject emergency cash.

Dad refused without employee protections.

Victor accused him of revenge.

Dad laughed.

It hurt his ribs.

“Revenge would be letting you fail.”

Victor stared.

Dad continued.

“I’m trying to keep your employees from paying for you.”

The union agreed to support restructuring.

Two banks returned.

One refused.

The refusing bank held enough debt to force bankruptcy.

Its representative arrived.

A woman named Elise Warren.

She shook Dad’s hand.

Then mine.

Then Victor’s.

“I have one condition.”

Victor leaned forward.

“Anything.”

Elise looked at him.

“You resign permanently.”

Victor froze.

“My family founded Harrow Crest.”

Elise shrugged.

“Then your family should have treated it better.”

He refused.

The bank walked.

Harrow Crest prepared bankruptcy papers.

At 11:48 p.m., Victor called an emergency board meeting.

At 11:59, he resigned.

The filing stopped with one minute left.

I should have felt relief.

Then Dad’s attorney whispered.

“Celeste just filed a civil suit against Lena.”

I laughed.

“What for?”

He looked at me.

“Permanent facial injury.”

May you like

She wanted twenty-five million dollars for the punch.

 

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