Daniel had arranged for the company’s governance records to be secured, and Patricia had already suspended Malcolm’s access to certain financial systems pending investigation.
But I didn’t feel victorious.
I felt exhausted.
As the others left, Trevor remained seated.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, “You humiliated me.”
I turned.
“Trevor, you struck me.”
His jaw tightened.
“You could have handled this privately.”
I stared at him.
“That’s what people say when they want the victim to carry the shame.”
His expression changed.
For a moment, I saw the boy he’d once been.
The little child who climbed into my lap during thunderstorms.
Who brought me crooked drawings and called them masterpieces.
Who cried when Henry died.
Then he looked away.
“Malcolm said the house should have been mine.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
“He said Dad wanted me to have it.”
My heart tightened.
“Your father left a will, Trevor.”
