A terrible possibility began forming.
“No.”
Sophia reached into her purse.
“There’s one more thing.”
She handed me her phone.
An email.
Sent eight months earlier.
From Cain.
To Marcus.
The subject line:
RESTREPO BENEFICIARY
I read the message.
Then again.
If the old woman really included Elena’s line in the trust, Sophia’s beneficial interest could become significant if control shifts.
Keep her close until we know exactly what she can claim.
My stomach turned.
Sophia’s voice cracked.
“He knew.”
Cain hadn’t stumbled into an affair with Sophia.
He had targeted her.
Marcus had introduced them deliberately.
Cain thought seducing Sophia might give him influence over a second block of trust-controlled shares.
Then Sophia got pregnant.
And Cain, believing the baby was his, decided he didn’t need me at all.
The future.
That was what he had called her.
Not because he loved her.
Because he thought she was an asset.
The same way I had been.
The same way everyone eventually became.
I looked at Sophia.
“Did you know any of this?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
She nodded, ashamed.
“He told me yesterday.
After Daniel contacted him about the trust.”
“So Marcus knew Cain targeted you.”
“Yes.”
“And you still—”
“I loved Marcus before Cain.”
I stared at her.
She wiped her eyes.
“Marcus and I were together first.”
The room went silent.
“He ended things when Cain became interested in me.
He said Cain could ruin both of us.”
“And then?”
“And then Cain pursued me.”
She looked sick.
“He told me your marriage had been over privately for years.
He said the vow renewal was for investors and press.”
I almost laughed.
Of course he did.
“He told me you knew about me.”
“No.”
“I realized that tonight.”
“So you walked in anyway.”
Sophia lowered her head.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than excuses would have.
I returned to my grandmother’s letter.
There was a final paragraph.
If these shares ever become the cause of cruelty between you, give them away.
I read it twice.
Then smiled.
My mother frowned.
“What?”
Suddenly, I knew exactly what to do.
At eleven twenty-seven that night, the emergency board reconvened.
Not in the ballroom.
In a conference suite thirty floors above it.
Cain sat at one end of a polished walnut table.
His tuxedo jacket was gone.
His bow tie hung loose.
He looked smaller without an audience.
Marcus sat with two attorneys.
Sophia sat beside Daniel.
My mother was behind me.
The directors joined remotely and in person.
Cain looked at Sophia.
Then at me.
“What is she doing here?”
I sat.
“She’s a beneficiary.”
Cain’s face hardened.
So he knew.
Of course he knew.
Daniel placed my grandmother’s trust documents on the table.
Chairman Hayes adjusted his glasses.
“We have confirmed the contingent ownership provisions.”
Cain immediately leaned forward.
“Then this meeting is premature.
Sophia is twenty-six.
Her interest doesn’t mature until thirty.”
Daniel said nothing.
That made Cain nervous.
I opened my grandmother’s letter.
“The trustee can accelerate distribution under extraordinary circumstances threatening company value.”
Cain stared at Daniel.
“You wouldn’t.”
Daniel folded his hands.
“I already did.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
Cain shot to his feet.
“You can’t just hand her shares!”
“Actually,” Daniel said, “the trust can.”
Cain looked at me.
“Rita, think.”
I almost smiled.
He had spent ten years telling me I thought too much.
Now it was all he wanted me to do.
He lowered his voice.
“If Sophia receives her beneficial interest, your voting block is diluted.”
“I know.”
“You could lose control.”
“I know.”
“Then stop this.”
“No.”
Cain stared.
“You hate her.”
I looked at Sophia.
“No.”
He laughed.
“She slept with your husband.”
“She did.”
“She humiliated you.”
“She helped.”
“Then why would you give her power?”
