Chapter 8 - The Contract
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“Impossible!”
The shriek came from my mother. She had dropped her champagne glass, and it shattered against the marble floor. She pointed a shaking, manicured finger at me.
“She is a nobody! She works as a freelance consultant in a tiny apartment! She doesn't have the capital to own a percentage of a billion-dollar firm!” my mother yelled, completely abandoning her high-society grace.
I looked at my mother, feeling a strange sense of pity for the woman who had spent my entire life tearing me down.
I reached into my velvet clutch one more time and pulled out a folded legal document.
“You never asked what I actually did for a living, Mother,” I said, my voice carrying clearly across the quiet room. “I don't consult for small businesses. I build them. I designed the algorithmic trading software that Vale Capital used to double its assets three years ago. Adrian bought my software, and I took my payment in equity.”
I handed the document to one of the bodyguards. The massive man walked the length of the room and placed the paper directly on the head table in front of my father.
My father’s trembling hands picked up the contract.
It was the bailout agreement for Harrington Properties. The very deal he needed to save his home, his cars, and his social standing.
“Your company’s rescue deal requires two executive signatures for approval,” I told my father, watching the absolute despair wash over his face.
He looked down at the signature lines at the bottom of the page.
One line read: Adrian Vale, CEO.
The line next to it read: Meredith Harrington-Vale, Chief Technology Officer.
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My father looked up at me, his eyes wide with a horrific realization. He had spent the last hour openly mocking the exact woman who held the absolute power of life and death over his entire legacy.
But before he could beg for forgiveness, a cell phone buzzed loudly on the head table.
