We walked back to the kitchen together and I felt lighter somehow—like talking about Archie had made it more real, and maybe wanting something good wasn’t selfish after all.
CHAPTER 11
Archer
Richard Moss was talkingabout quarterly projections when I stopped listening entirely.
Not because the numbers weren’t important. They were. Devlin Holdings had exceeded expectations three quarters running, and the board liked reminding me of that fact as if I might forget we were making money.
I stopped listening because Margaret Hollander had just mentioned the Brooklyn case.
“The legal opposition is minimal,” she said, flipping through documents. “Small firm, legal-aid clinic involvement. Nothing we haven’t handled before.”
My pen stilled against the notepad where I’d been pretending to take notes.
“They’re stalling our timeline,” Richard added. “But that’s expected. These tenant advocacy groups always try to drag things out, hoping we’ll settle just to move forward.”
“The lawyers involved,” Margaret continued, “are inexperienced. Barely out of school, working for passion projects instead of real money. They’ll fold when they realize how expensive opposition gets.”
Jeff, our newest board member, leaned forward. “Have we considered the alternative approach? Make it worth their while to drop the case. Legal aid lawyers don’t make much. A quiet payment, positioned correctly, could solve this faster than litigation.”
The room went silent.
I looked up from my notepad and found every board member watching me, waiting for my response. This was a test. They wanted to know if I’d approve bribing lawyers to abandon their clients.
If I’d choose profit over principles.
“No,” I said.
Richard’s eyebrows lifted. “No?”
“We’re not bribing opposing counsel. That’s not how we operate.”
“It’s not bribery,” Jeff clarified. “It’s a settlement offer. Perfectly legal if structured correctly.”
“It’s bribery dressed in legal language, and we’re not doing it.” I set down my pen with more force than necessary. “We’ll handle this case through proper channels. If our legal position is as strong as Margaret claims, we don’t need shortcuts.”
Margaret looked pleased, like I’d proven something she’d been waiting to see. Richard looked less convinced but nodded anyway.
This was Gianna’s case we were talking about.
The inexperienced lawyers working for passion instead of money. That was her.
She was the one my company was trying to crush.
The meeting continued. They moved on to other topics, other properties, other profit margins that meant nothing to me anymore.
I made it through the rest of the meeting on autopilot, nodding at appropriate moments and signing things I barelyread. When it finally ended, I walked back to my office and closed the door.
Then I pulled up the Brooklyn case file.
The documentation was thorough.
I scrolled through the legal strategy documents our team had prepared. Delay discovery, file procedural objections, drag out the timeline until families gave up and moved anyway. Make opposition so expensive and exhausting that even passionate lawyers couldn’t sustain it.
The same playbook I’d personally approved ten years ago.
The same one that had killed Gianna’s father.
