To my left, Raj picks up the phone, and moments later, security stands in the doorway. Nick rounds the table to his side, attempting to straighten his now crooked tie, but he doesn’t sit.
“So that was your plan? Take my wife? Ruin my name?” I goad.
“Ruining your name was the easiest fucking thing I’ve ever done. Everyone was all too ready to believe that you are your father’s son.”
Violence as I’ve never known tightens the muscles in my arms until they burn. My father manipulated people, used them, blackmailed them, and ruined them with all his schemes—I’ll never be like him.
“What’s your choice, Sebastian? Buy me out? Oh, and by the way, my price has now gone up. Or do I sell to Skyview?”
Finally. This is what I’ve been waiting for.
A sneer spreads slowly across my face. For the first time since Nick crashed onto that stage with his hands all over my wife, I smile. It’s broad, and freeing.
“But there’s always a third option,” I say with a menacing grin. “We learned that in business school, remember? Oh, that’s right. You got through school copying my homework, so I’ll give you theCliffsNotes. It’s the basis for every story since the dawn of time—there are always three sides—his, hers, and the truth. Did you truly believe I’ve gotten to where I am by luck or on the lies my father raised me on? No, Nicky. You of all people should know me better than that.”
His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face bunching, but he doesn’t say a word.
“I always have a safety net, Nicky. Always. Even from my best friend.” I grin at Raj, who removes a stack of papers and hands them to Nick’s attorney.
Nick snatches them from the lawyer’s hands and angrily flips through them. He’s not a stupid man. He’ll understand what’s happening in three, two, bingo!
“What the fuck is this?”
“I call it the Pappy Clause. You might be more familiar with the term morality clause. Those”—I point to one stack of papers—“are your exit papers. You’ve been terminated, effective immediately.”
His shoulders relax. “This, this is what you have up your sleeve, you fucking idiot? Working for you was never going to happen again. It’s the shares that are the ticking bomb here.”
“Oh.” I laugh humorlessly. “About those. Thank you for reminding me.”
Raj leans forward again and hands the pale-faced attorney a check.
Nick glares over the older man’s shoulders and his face turns crimson. “Don’t fucking insult me. I know what my shares are worth.”
“You’re right, and that’s why you’re getting fifty grand.”
“That’s not?—”
“But it is,” I hiss. “Tucked away in the contract you never bothered to review right out of college is a morality clause. Since you just admitted to fucking and carrying on an affair with my then-wife, plus your planned character assassination and deals with a competitor, you fail. It all falls into the morality clause, as does blackmail and corporate sabotage. I’ll hand it to you, four for four. I couldn’t have predicted you’d manage all of them, but when you do something, you go all out. So congrats. You’re fifty grand richer because the clause clearly states that by engaging in those acts, you forfeit any rights to company shares, and you’ll be compensated fifty thousand dollars, or five percent of their worth—whichever is lower. And fifty grand is much, much lower.”
Buttoning up my coat, I signal the end of the meeting. Raj reaches over and takes the flash drive that contains the recording of this meeting and slips it into his pocket with a silent nod.
“We’re done here.”
“You asshole. I trusted you.” Nick’s anger isn’t allowing him to think clearly.
I raise a brow in mock surprise. “Funny how that works, isn’t it? But so we’re clear, I trusted you too. I never would have turned on you. Now you’ve made the worst enemy you’ll ever have in your life. I never forget a betrayal.”
Ushering Raj in front of me, I nod to the additional security personnel who enter the room and create a wall between us and Nick.
“This isn’t over,” Nick shouts. “Money isn’t the only way we can get to you.”
Ice floods my veins. Is he seriously threatening my children right now?
“I don’t care how long it takes or what I have to do. Youwillget what’s coming to you,” he warns.
“I wonder how many vibrators Mya’s using to compensate for what she no longer has.” It’s a dick thing to say, but the dig feeds a sickness in me. The sickness for revenge.
He’s always been insecure, and now he should be.
