Chapter 5

My head snapped up.

"What did you just say?"

Marta tossed the pen onto the desk in front of me.

"Dad. Sign."

I didn't move. I kept my eyes locked on her.

"That thing you just said. What did you mean by that?"

Her gaze shifted for just a second. But she squared her jaw and didn't back down.

"If you don't sign, evidence of you assaulting me—years of it—will end up in front of a judge."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of photographs. Dropped them on the desk.

They fanned out across the surface.

I looked down at them. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of filth directly in my face.

Photos of me supposedly hurting her.

One showed me reaching out and grabbing her arm from behind—framed by the camera angle to look like an attack.

Another showed fake bruises on her skin, with a shot of my face looking cold and expressionless just beside it.

A few more were screenshots of text messages. All fabricated. All supposedly me threatening her.

Every single one was fake.

I stared at these carefully manufactured lies, and something inside me short-circuited. I stood completely still.

This was the daughter I had treasured. The child I had held in the palm of my hand for twenty years.

"That's fake!" The words tore out of me. My voice broke on the way out. "That's all fabricated!"

Marta let out a short, dismissive laugh.

"Does it matter?"

She looked at me like I was something beneath her.

"Dad, you're a convicted felon. A rapist on record. Tell me—when the judge looks at this, who do you think they'll believe? Me, or you?"

I looked at her face.

And then, strangely, I laughed.

I had raised this girl for twenty years. I'd never let her go without. Never let her feel one moment of real hardship if I could help it.

I'd worked myself to the bone to give her the best schools, the nicest clothes, every good thing I could find.

I had never once laid a hand on her. Never even raised my voice at her when I could avoid it.

And she was standing here using forged photographs to threaten me. Trying to put me back behind bars.

I looked over at Bob and Laura. They were watching me with matching expressions of smug satisfaction.

"Just sign it," Bob said, tilting his chin up.

"Your own daughter is on our side. What exactly do you think you're fighting for?"

Laura smiled and chimed in.

"Andre, stop making this hard. Once you sign, you're free to go. I'll take good care of the company. I promise."

I looked down at the stock transfer agreement.

Eighty million in debt. And the factory on the edge of town.

They thought they were grabbing a gold mine.

They had no idea they were grabbing a live grenade.

I picked up the pen and slowly wrote my name across the document.

When I finished the last page, I slid it across the desk.

Then I looked up at my daughter.

"Marta. I hope you don't regret this."

She made a short, scornful sound. She didn't even look at me.

"Regret? Not a chance."

She took Laura's arm. The look on her face was the pure, satisfied relief of someone who'd finally gotten what they wanted.

"Now I get to live with my mom. And I never have to see you again."

I nodded. I had nothing left to say.

Bob and Laura took the document and flipped through every page. When they were sure everything was in order, they couldn't keep the smiles off their faces.

Bob pulled out his phone and posted an announcement on the company's official website right then and there.

Stock Transfer Notice: Effective immediately, all shares of SSS Technologies are held by Ms. Laura.

Personnel Update: Andre has been relieved of all positions within the company and is dismissed effective today.

Laura watched the announcement pop up on the screen. Her eyes curved into crescents.

She turned to face me, looking down from where she stood.

"Andre. This company belongs to us now."

She lifted her chin toward the door.

"You're trespassing. Get out."

Bob followed up, unable to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

"Andre, if you beg nicely, maybe I'll find you a spot cleaning the bathrooms."

"You're not exactly young anymore. What are you going to do out there on your own?"

I looked at both their faces—that shining, gloating triumph—and I laughed again.

"No need for that."

I stood up and straightened my collar.

"After all, we'll see who gets the last laugh."

Laura frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I didn't answer her.

I glanced at the agreement they'd already put away, and the corner of my mouth lifted slightly.

"The company's yours now. Enjoy it."

Then I turned and walked toward the door.

Marta made a short, contemptuous sound behind me. As if she found my parting words pathetic.

I didn't look back. I pushed the office door open and walked out.

Their laughter followed me down the hall. Mixed in with it was my daughter's voice, soft and playful.

And the moment I stepped out through the front doors of the building, I saw them—a line of black sedans parked along the curb. A group of men in dark suits climbing out and heading toward the entrance.