Chapter 9
Tiffany broke before her father did.
It happened because of a friend.
There is always one person near power who records too much and stays loyal too little.
One of Tiffany’s friends leaked a private video.
In it, Tiffany sat in a car outside the boutique before the incident, laughing.
“My dad said if the pretty cashier cries on camera, it makes Sterling look like trash.”
Another voice asked, “What if she doesn’t cry?”
Tiffany smiled.
“Then I’ll make her.”
The clip went viral by morning.
By noon, Garrett’s lawsuit began collapsing.
By evening, Tiffany posted an apology.
It was a terrible apology.
To anyone hurt by the misunderstanding.
I read it aloud to Simone.
She snorted.
“My condolences to the word sorry.”
Garrett pulled his daughter from public view.
But it was too late.
His financing partners froze discussions.
City officials backed away.
And Alexander filed countersuit.
Extortion.
Business interference.
Conspiracy.
Witness tampering.
Carl flipped within two days.
He gave emails.
Texts.
Payment records.
He cried during his statement and claimed he was scared.
I believed that.
I just no longer believed fear was an excuse for feeding someone else to a wolf.
When I saw him outside court, he could not meet my eyes.
“Mara,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
I stopped.
“For the slap?”
He swallowed.
“For everything.”
I looked at the man who watched me almost kneel.
“I hope losing your job teaches you what keeping it cost other people.”
He cried.
I walked away.
May you like
Not because I was cruel.
Because I was done comforting people who found their conscience after consequences arrived.
