Chapter 6 - The CounterstrikeMy father took the phone from my hand, read the text message, and let out a cold, sharp laugh that echoed through the sterile hospital room.
"He really is a fool," Richard said, handing the phone back to Vance. "He thinks a five-year-old tax audit that was fully resolved and cleared by the federal government is a weapon against me."
"It's a classic panic move," Vance observed, making a quick note on his tablet. "He's desperate. He knows he's facing felony assault charges, child endangerment, and a minimum of seven to ten years in state prison."
"No," I said suddenly, my voice firmer than both men expected.
They both looked at me in surprise.
"I don't want him just to go to prison," I said, my fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as memories of every slap, every insult, and every night spent hiding in the dark rushed back to me. "He spent five years taking away my dignity, my self-respect, and my freedom. He made me feel like an insect under his boot. If we just lock him up, he'll play the victim to his wealthy family. I want him to lose everything first."
My father stared at me for a moment, a proud, sharp smile slowly spreading across his face. "That's my girl. Tell me what you want to do."
"Trevor's whole life is built on image," I explained, the clarity of vengeance lighting up my mind. "He cares more about status, his partnership at the firm, and his social standing at the country club than he cares about anything else. He sacrificed me to build that image. I want to use his own arrogance to destroy it."
"Vance," my father ordered instantly. "Pull up the financial portfolio of Oakridge Capital. Who owns the controlling stake in Trevor’s firm?"
Vance typed rapidly on his laptop. "Lawson Global holds a thirty-four percent equity stake through our venture arm. The remaining shares are divided among three managing partners who are currently trying to secure a fifty-million-dollar pension fund allocation from..." Vance paused, smiling. "...from your philanthropic foundation, Mr. Lawson."
"Call the senior partners," Richard commanded. "Tell them I am pulling our equity stake and canceling the pension deal effective immediately. Give them one reason: Trevor Vance."
"Wait," I interrupted. "Don't tell them to fire him yet."
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My father leaned in, intrigued. "Why?"
"Because tomorrow night is the firm's annual charity gala," I said, a cold realization settling into my heart. "Trevor was supposed to give the keynote speech on family values and corporate ethics. He spent months begging me to look perfect for his bosses. Let him go to the gala thinking he's safe. Let him stand on that stage."
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