“That thing?” I frowned. “It’s hideous.”
“It was my mother’s,” Shannyn said, pushing past me. “Tess stole it. Mama left it to me in her will, and Tess knew. She hated the painting, but she stole it to spite me. It was all I had left from Mama.”
She looked at me expectantly from under her lashes that were barely wet. “But…”
“Ah,” I said. “I see now. Let’s cut the shit, shall we?”
Shannyn stiffened.
“You want this painting in exchange for retracting all your statements and making social media posts about how none of what had been written about me and my family was true and how you support my bid to adopt Annie and Enola,” I stated.
“I was going to do that anyways. I was just shocked to see this painting and—”
“No, you weren’t,” I said, cutting her off. “And honestly, I don’t care. If that’s the trade, that’s the trade. I’m a businessman. Don’t try and manipulate me.”
“You’re just going to give it to me?” Shannyn asked in shock.
“If it’s in exchange for the social media posts and a video statement, yes,” I said. I took the painting off the wall. “Make the posts, and you can have it.”
Shannyn and her father took out their phones.
“I already have the material done,” she said, handing the device to me.
“And she comes prepared,” I said, reading the statement. It sounded fine.
Shannyn made the posts, and I checked on my phone to see that it was live. Then I handed her the painting.
“Free and clear?” Shannyn asked.
“Of course,” I told her.
“It is because I wanted a piece of my mother,” she said slowly.
“I don’t care if you wanted it to make Tess suffer,” I told her. “You made the posts. Our business is done here.”
Shannyn’s father picked up the painting and wordlessly walked out the front door.
I sat on the couch and let my shoulders relax.
It was over. I won, and I didn’t have to pay a million dollars either.
My phone beeped with another message from Tess.
I needed to respond to her. I needed to tell her about the painting.
It would be fine. She loved my sisters. She would be okay with what I had done, right?
58
Tess
Istayed out later than I had planned with my friends. I felt like I couldn’t just show up at the condo with no solutions. I was sure Beck was freaked out. He still wasn’t answering my texts.
His little sisters had been texting me nonstop about the lies and slander my stepfather and stepsister had been putting on the internet and gossip sites.
“He’s probably busy,” Holly said.
“But what if he hates me?” I wailed.
