“He’s leaving,” I tell the others.
Samantha takes a shaky breath and nods. “Good. I never want to see him again.”
“You won’t,” Dad promises. “We’ve made sure of that.”
39
GRANT
It’s Wednesday morning,the day after Robert left.
I’m in my office, going through the final transfer documents, when Donovan knocks and steps inside without waiting for permission.
“How is she?” I ask, not looking up from the paperwork.
“Quiet. She ate breakfast but barely said two words.” He drops into the chair across from my desk. “Kai’s still in medical, but the doctor says he can be released tomorrow if he follows medication instructions.”
“Good.” I sign the last document and add it to the stack. “Is Samantha in her room?”
“Library. Reading, or pretending to read.” Donovan studies my face. “You’re going to show her the company documents today.”
It’s not a question.
“She deserves to know what’s hers.” I close the folder and stand. “Robert stole it from Mandy, used it to destroy himself, and Samantha should have it back.”
“She’s going to cry,” Donovan says.
“Probably.” I head for the door. “But they’ll be better tears than yesterday’s.”
I find her exactly where Donovan said she’d be, curled up in the oversized leather chair by the library window with a book in her lap that she’s clearly not reading. Her gaze is fixed on the snow outside, distant and unfocused.
She looks up when I enter, and something flickers across her face. Worry, maybe. Like she thinks I’m about to tell her we’ve reconsidered letting her stay.
“Come with me,” I say. “There’s something I need to show you.”
She sets the book aside and follows me down the hallway to my office without asking questions. When we’re inside, I close the door and gesture to the chair in front of my desk.
“Sit.”
She sits, hands folded in her lap, watching me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing.
I pull the thick folder from my desk and set it in front of her. “Open it.”
Her fingers tremble slightly as she flips open the cover. The first page is a corporate registration document for Price Fashion Ltd., her mother’s original company name. Samantha is listed as the sole owner and CEO, the transfer dated yesterday at four thirty in the afternoon, right after Robert signed away his rights.
“I don’t understand,” she says quietly.
“Keep reading.”
She turns the page. Financial statements showing the company’s current holdings. Real estate in downtown Denver worth three point two million. Intellectual property rights to several clothing designs that have been licensed to major retailers for the past eight years, generating steady royalty income. Investment accounts Robert set up using the company as a shell, but never touched because he was too busy bleeding it dry elsewhere.
Her hands stop shaking and grip the pages hard enough to crinkle the edges.
“The total asset value is approximately six point eight million dollars,” I tell her. “Robert kept the company registered but dormant, using it occasionally for money laundering when he needed a clean paper trail. He never dissolved it completely because that would have drawn attention from creditors looking for assets to seize.”
Samantha looks up at me, eyes wide. “Six point eight million?”
“Give or take a few hundred thousand, depending on current property valuations.” I lean back against my desk. “It’s all yours now. The company, the assets, everything your mother built before Robert got his hands on it.”
