Chapter 4 - The Video They Tried to Buy
Mara Ellis had never met a billionaire, and she was suspicious of everyone who worked for one.
"I'm not selling anything," she told me over a secure video call. "I just wanted to make sure you and your kid were safe."
She sat in a kitchen in Chicago, a mug of tea between her hands. Behind her, a grocery list was held to the refrigerator by a magnet shaped like a lobster.
I liked her immediately.
"I don't need you to take sides," I said. "I only need the truth."
"That's what you get."
She sent the original recording to Naomi through an evidence-preservation service, keeping her own copy. The video began before the glass fell. Sophia's elbow was clearly visible as she pushed the wine toward herself, then deliberately tipped it against her dress. She immediately pointed at me.
Ethan stood.
I remembered his chair scraping the floor.
The blow was fast. The sound wasn't.
I watched myself stumble against the table while Sophia reached for Ethan's arm. Not to stop him. To hold him close.
Mara's voice came from behind the camera: "Oh my God. Did he just hit her?"
Someone answered, "Yes."
I paused the recording. My cheek burned as if the event were happening again.
Naomi sat opposite me and waited.
"I thought maybe I'd exaggerated it," I admitted. "The way he looked at me afterward. I kept hearing him say I'd embarrassed him."
"This was an assault," she said. "His excuse does not change what the video shows."
I nodded once. "Use it where it's needed. Don't put Lily through a public spectacle."
The footage was submitted through legal channels, not dumped online for strangers to dissect. Mara agreed to give a statement. Her honesty could matter far more than millions of views.
At work, the NordTech bid entered its decisive phase. The Stockholm technology firm had developed energy-efficient components essential to European rail systems. Quinn International wanted to invest in its factories and expand production without cutting its workforce. Bennett Holdings had offered a higher headline price, but much of it depended on debt and asset sales.
The numbers told a story.
"Their plan isn't to build NordTech," I told my analysts. "It's to strip its patents and leave the factories behind."
"Then we need to show the sellers exactly how our offer protects long-term value," said Daniel Cho, my operations chief.
"With evidence. Independent valuations. No games."
That afternoon an unfamiliar man waited outside the conference room.
"Gabriel Hart," he said, offering his hand. "Counsel for NordTech's employee foundation."
He was in his mid-thirties, tall, dark-haired, and wearing a jacket that looked as though it had spent the morning on a train. His expression was alert but not flattering.
"I'm told you used to run operations," he said.
"I still do, apparently."
His mouth moved, almost a smile. "Then tell me what happens to the plant in Västerås after the acquisition."
I invited him inside.
For an hour he asked difficult questions. I answered with staffing models, investment schedules, and figures our team could support. He wasn't impressed by my surname. It was refreshing.
As he left, he said, "The workers have heard promises before. Don't make one you can't keep."
"I don't intend to."
"Good. I'll be checking."
By evening Martin had discovered a disturbing mismatch in Halcyon's records. The trust had lent money to a Bennett-affiliated acquisition vehicle. Worse, the loan could be converted into shares if Quinn International's market value fell below a specified threshold.
The fake news story had driven down our price.
A rumor about my supposed theft could help someone obtain part of my trust's economic interest at a discount.
Arthur Vale had signed the arrangement.
So had Ethan.
I held the photocopy under my desk lamp, searching for an explanation that didn't make my blood run cold.
Then I noticed the witness name on the last page.
Sophia Bennett.
All three had placed their names on the same transaction.
Rebecca knocked. "Claire? The American number you blocked keeps calling the office."
"He can speak to Naomi."
"This time he's left a message. He says he just found out Sophia forged something, and he has proof."
I looked at Ethan's signature on the loan agreement.
"If he has proof," I said, "he can give it to his lawyer and the authorities."
"There's one more thing," Rebecca said.
May you like
I waited.
"He says Arthur is planning to remove your mother from the board tomorrow."
