Chapter 9 - THE MISTRESS WHO WANTED A KINGDOM
Sloane Whitcomb arrived at my townhouse two days later.
She wore a black designer coat and carried an expensive handbag.
Her confidence had disappeared.
“Ava, we need to talk.”
I remained in the doorway.
“No, we don't.”
She swallowed.
“Julian lied to me.”
I looked at her.
“That seems to be a habit.”
“He told me he owned Hale Capital.”
“He never did.”
“He told me he was divorcing you.”
“He wasn't.”
Her eyes filled.
“He said the ring belonged to his family.”
I stared at her.
“Did he tell you where the money for Arden Advisory came from?”
Sloane looked away.
I waited.
Finally, she whispered:
“He said it was consulting income.”
“Did you perform the work?”
“Some of it.”
“Then your records should establish what services were actually provided.”
She looked frightened.
“Ava, I didn't know about the trust.”
I nodded.
“Perhaps not.”
She stepped closer.
“Please. I need your help.”
I almost laughed.
The woman who had dropped an engagement ring into my champagne was standing on my doorstep asking for mercy.
But I remembered something Margaret had said.
Don't confuse justice with humiliation.
I took a breath.
“Sloane, get an attorney.”
She stared.
“What?”
“Preserve your records. Tell the truth. Don't destroy messages or invent explanations.”
She began crying.
“Julian says you're going to ruin us.”
I looked at her.
“Julian has spent years telling people that everything bad in his life is someone else's fault.”
She wiped her eyes.
I continued.
“You need to decide whether you're going to keep believing him.”
Sloane looked down.
Then she removed a small envelope from her handbag.
Inside was a copy of a letter.
It bore Julian's signature.
The letter promised Sloane a senior position at Westhaven after the acquisition.
It also described a substantial payment tied to the transaction's closing.
I read it twice.
“Does your attorney know about this?”
She shook her head.
“Not yet.”
I handed it back.
“Then show it to them.”
Sloane stared at me.
“You're not taking it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm not interested in collecting secrets from frightened people. I'm interested in the truth being established properly.”
She stood in silence.
Then whispered:
“I'm sorry about the dinner.”
I looked at her.
“I know.”
She waited.
I didn't forgive her.
Not that day.
May you like
But I didn't destroy her either.
Sometimes walking away is the only victory worth keeping.
