Chapter 8 - The Price of Arrogance
The next morning, the financial headlines were brutal.
“CALLAWAY HOLDINGS IN FREEFALL: HEIR’S INFIDELITY TRIGGERS LAND LEASE COLLAPSE.” “SABLE VANCE: THE WOMAN WHO TOOK DOWN A DYNASTY IN HER EMERALD DRESS.”
By noon, Preston and Weston were practically begging for a meeting at Josephine’s office.
We let them sweat until 4:00 PM.
When they walked into the conference room, they looked like different people. Weston’s hair was unkempt, his eyes bloodshot. Preston looked frail, his expensive suit suddenly looking too large for him. Adele hadn’t even bothered to come.
“Sable,” Preston said, his voice hoarse. “Name your price. We will pay whatever you want. Just reinstate the lease. The board is threatening to oust us. The banks are calling in our loans. We are facing ruin.”
I sat at the head of the table, tapping a pen against my notebook.
“I don’t want your money, Preston,” I said. “I have my uncle’s estate. I have the land.”
“Then what do you want?” Weston pleaded. “Sable, please. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I was stupid, I was blind. I want to be a father to Marlo. I’ll sign the papers. I’ll sign whatever you want!”
I looked at him with pity. “You don't want to be a father to Marlo because you love her, Weston. You want to sign those papers because you think it will save your company. You are exactly the man I thought you were.”
I slid a new document across the table.
“Here are my terms,” I said.
“First: Weston signs a full termination of his parental rights. You will have no custody, no visitation, and no say in Marlo’s life. She will never carry the Callaway name. Her name is Marlo Vance.”
Weston flinched, but he didn’t argue.
“Second: You will transfer fifty-one percent of Callaway Holdings’ voting shares to a trust fund established solely for Marlo, managed by me and Josephine. The Callaways will no longer control the board. I will.”
Preston gasped. “You’re stripping us of our own company!”
“You stripped my daughter of her family before she was even two hours old,” I replied coldly. “You have ten minutes to sign, or I execute the foreclosure, and Callaway Holdings ceases to exist by tomorrow morning.”
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Preston looked at the document. He looked at Weston.
With a shaking hand, Preston picked up the pen and signed. Weston followed, his tears dropping onto the paper as he signed away his rights to his daughter—and his control over the empire he had spent his life preparing to inherit.
