I am not going to lose anything that matters.
He knew. Malcolm knew about the files before we even got in the car. He knew Preston was going to blackmail him, and he walked into that library fully intending to throw away his billion-dollar company just to protect my mother’s pride.
"He resigned," I repeated, my voice barely audible.
"He walked away from the security division," Simon said, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, ruining it completely. "He walked away from the board. He told Father he had immunity from the feds. He’s going to destroy us, Audrey. He’s going to send my father to prison, and he’s going to bankrupt the holding company."
Simon dropped to his knees.
It was a pathetic, theatrical movement, but he was entirely serious. He knelt on the dirty linoleum floor, looking up at me with tears standing in his eyes.
"Please," Simon begged, his voice breaking. "You have to stop him. You’re the only one he listens to. If you leave him—if you just walk away tonight and tell the press the engagement was a mistake—he won't have a reason to burn the company down. Father will give you your firm back. I’ll transfer the deed tomorrow morning. Just please, Audrey... make him stop."
I looked down at the man I almost married.
Four years. I spent four years trying to mold myself into a shape that wouldn't bruise his fragile ego. I wore pastels. I spoke quietly. I forgave his passive-aggressive comments because I thought he was just stressed by the pressure of his family name.
I thought he was broken, and I thought I could fix him.
But looking at him now, kneeling on the floor, begging me to sacrifice my own safety just to protect his trust fund, I realized the absolute, devastating truth.
He wasn't broken. He was just empty.
I stood up.
Simon looked up at me hopefully, expecting me to agree. He expected the quiet, accommodating girl to save him.
"Get up, Simon," I said, my voice completely flat.
He hesitated, sensing the shift in the room's gravity. He slowly stood up, brushing the dirt off the knees of his tuxedo trousers.
"You'll talk to him?" Simon asked, his voice trembling.
"No." I stepped closer to him. I didn't shrink away. I didn't lower my eyes. I looked directly into his face. "I am not going to talk to him. I am not going to leave him. And I am certainly not going to take my company back from a man who had to steal it in the first place."
Simon stared at me, the hope draining from his face, replaced by a dark, ugly resentment. "You’re crazy. He’s a psychopath, Audrey. He doesn't love you. He’s just using you to destroy me."
"He already destroyed you, Simon," I said softly. "You just haven't realized you’re dead yet."
I walked past him toward the door.
"He’ll ruin you too!" Simon shouted, spinning around to face my back. "When he’s done with my father, he’ll turn on you! That’s what he does!"
I put my hand on the brass doorknob. I didn't turn around.
"If Malcolm Vance wants to ruin me," I said, the absolute certainty of the words settling deep in my bones, "I will gladly let him."
I pulled the door open and stepped out into the freezing corridor.
I didn't run. I walked down the hallway, the gold silk of my dress brushing against the linoleum. I pushed the heavy double doors open and stepped back into the blinding light and noise of the main ballroom.
The orchestra was playing a waltz. The crowd was laughing, drinking champagne, completely oblivious to the fact that their entire world was currently burning to the ground.
I scanned the room.
I didn't look for the exits. I didn't look for Grant.
I looked for the shadow.
