“Not blocking exactly,” Justice interjected. “More like… slow-walking. Every time we submit something, there’s a new issue. A new delay. A new reason why it needs more review.”
I felt the familiar anger rising in my chest. “What does she want?”
Quest and Justice exchanged another look.
“She wants to talk to you,” Quest said finally. “Privately.”
“Fuck no.”
“Prime—”
“I said no.” I pushed off the desk. “I’m not doing this. Whatever game she’s playing, I ain’t interested.”
“It’s not a game,” Justice said quietly. “It’s multi-millions of dollars in investments. Jobs. The future of the company.”
“Then tell her to approve the permits and leave me out of it.”
“We’ve tried,” Quest said, frustration creeping into his voice. “She won’t budge. Says she needs to speak with you first. Face to face.”
“About what?”
“She wouldn’t say. Just that it’s important. That it’s time.”
Time. Time for what? Time to pretend she gave a damn about me after throwing me to the wolves when I was thirteen? Time to apologize for using my case to boost her political career? Time to play happy family for the cameras?
“No,” I said again.
“Prime, be reasonable?—”
“I am being reasonable. The reasonable thing is to never speak to that woman again. She made her choice. I made mine.”
“This isn’t just about you,” Quest said, his voice hardening. “This affects all of us. The company. Grandma’s legacy. Everything Dad built.”
“Dad’s dead. And Grandma built that company more than he did, even if nobody wants to admit it.”
“Which is exactly why we can’t let Vivica tank this deal out of spite,” Justice said. “One conversation, Prime. That’s all she’s asking for.”
“She doesn’t get to ask me for anything.”
“Maybe she wants to apologize,” Quest offered, though he didn’t sound convinced.
I laughed, bitter and sharp. “Apologize? Vivica doesn’t apologize. She maneuvers. She manipulates. She uses people.”
“Then use her back,” Justice said. “Go in there, hear what she has to say, get what we need, and walk away. You don’t have to forgive her. You don’t even have to be nice. Just… talk to her.”
I stared at my brothers. Quest, the oldest, who’d stepped into the CEO role as soon as he turned eighteen. Who’d carried the weight of the business while barely legal. Justice, the middle child, the peacemaker, who’d always tried to bridge the gap between all of us.
They needed this. The company needed this. And as much as I hated it, as much as every instinct in me screamed to refuse, I knew they were right.
“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
“Prime—”
“I said I’ll think about it. But I’d rather cut off my own arm than sit in a room with her. So don’t hold your breath.”
Quest sighed, rubbing his face. “That’s all we’re asking. Just think about it.”
“I already am. And the answer’s probably still gonna be no.”
