Olivia smiled without warmth.
“And I am done investing in failed assets.”
For the first time, Lydia appeared amused.
By noon, Andrew had hired legal counsel. By two, his attorney requested a private meeting “to preserve the dignity of all parties.” By three, Serena Vale attempted to contact Olivia through an unknown number.
Olivia answered silently.
For several moments, only breathing could be heard.
Then Serena spoke.
“Olivia, I think we should talk woman to woman.”
Olivia activated speakerphone. Marcus, Lydia, and Julian—who had arrived wearing a charcoal suit and carrying the emotional temperature of winter—looked up.
Serena continued, sounding gentle and wounded.
“Andrew told me the marriage was basically over. I never wanted to hurt your son.”
Olivia said, “You were laughing at the window yesterday.”
Silence.
“I saw you,” Olivia continued. “My son was beside me.”
Serena’s voice changed.
“You do not know what Andrew told me.”
“I know what he paid you.”
Another silence followed.
Julian smiled like a locked door.
Serena recovered poorly.
“My contracts were legitimate.”
“Then the audit will be simple.”
Serena disconnected.
Marcus saved the recording.
Julian finally spoke.
“She is going to run.”
“She will try,” Marcus answered.
“She has two sisters in Arizona and a mother in Tampa,” Lydia said calmly. “Running will look terrible.”
Olivia looked at all three of them.
For years, she had kept her family at a careful distance because Andrew claimed they were overwhelming. Too wealthy. Too involved. Too controlling.
Now she understood.
He had never feared their control.
He had feared their competence.
That evening, Andrew appeared in the lobby of the Langford apartment building.
He was not allowed upstairs.
From the twenty-sixth floor, Olivia watched him through the security cameras. He stood beneath the lobby lights wearing a navy jacket, unshaven and furious, attempting to look betrayed. The concierge, an ex-Marine named Powell, remained behind the desk with calm professionalism.
