Chapter 7
The lawsuit arrived three days later.
Not from Tiffany.
From Garrett.
Defamation.
Emotional distress.
Interference with reputation.
He named Alexander.
The boutique.
And me.
My mother read the envelope twice before sitting down.
Jamie exploded.
“How can they sue you for getting slapped?”
I stared at the papers.
“Because they can afford to.”
That was the cruelty of money.
It did not need to be right.
It only needed to be heavy.
Alexander’s legal team offered to represent me.
I resisted.
“I don’t want to owe him.”
My mother looked at me quietly.
“Pride is useful until it makes you stand alone against a truck.”
I almost smiled.
“You calling Garrett Vale a truck?”
“I’m calling him something worse in my head.”
I accepted the lawyer.
Her name was Simone Hart.
She was small, blunt, and terrifying.
At our first meeting, she placed the lawsuit on the table.
“This is trash.”
Jamie grinned.
“I like her.”
Simone ignored him.
“They don’t expect to win. They expect to scare you silent.”
“Will it work?”
“That depends on you.”
I looked down at my hands.
I had spent my whole life surviving by lowering my voice.
By being polite.
By making myself harmless.
That day, I was tired of harmless.
“No,” I said.
“It won’t.”
Simone smiled.
“Good.”
Then she slid over another folder.
“We found something.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Carl was paid.”
“By Garrett?”
“Through a consulting company tied to Vale Holdings.”
I opened the folder.
Bank transfers.
Emails.
Carl had been instructed to document “inappropriate conduct” by me.
To build a record.
To prepare termination.
My face went hot.
“They planned this before Tiffany came in.”
“Yes,” Simone said.
“Why?”
Alexander, who had been silent until then, answered.
“Because Garrett wanted the boutique space.”
I turned to him.
“What?”
He looked grim.
“He’s been trying to force several tenants out of Sterling Row. If he could create a scandal, pressure us, and prove mismanagement, he could push for a forced sale through one of our financing partners.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So my face was just convenient.”
Alexander’s eyes softened.
“No, Mara. Your mistreatment was convenient to them.”
I looked at the folder again.
Tiffany’s slap had not been only jealousy.
May you like
It had been entitlement sitting on top of strategy.
And I had been the woman they expected to kneel.
