The Plaque Called It Ownership. He Learned Too Late That Revenge Wears Silk

by

Chapter 16

THEME:
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She did not look at Chase when she said his name.

“Dr. Chase Whitaker has been placed on immediate administrative leave pending board review.”

The ballroom inhaled.

Chase lunged toward the microphone.

“This is insane.”

Julian moved before anyone else did.

Not aggressively. Elegantly.

He stepped into Chase’s path, one hand raised, voice low.

“Don’t.”

Chase’s eyes snapped to him.

“You.”

Julian’s expression did not change.

“Yes.”

Ah.

So Chase knew.

Men always know the man who would have treated their wife better. Even if they never say his name.

Chase pointed at him.

“You’re behind this.”

Julian almost smiled. “No. That’s your mistake.”

He looked toward me.

“She is.”

Something passed through the room then.

Not sympathy.

Respect.

Cruel, glittering, overdue respect.

I turned back to the microphone.

“I did not come here tonight to discuss my marriage,” I said. “Dr. Whitaker made that impossible when he publicly accused me of stalking him and Ms. Mercer. Since that accusation concerns locations tied to tonight’s legal matters, I will clarify it once.”

Every phone was up now.

Let them record.

“Aspen,” I said, “was a scheduled inspection of a recovery property owned by Hartwell Meridian Holdings.”

The screen changed.

ASPEN PROPERTY

Owner: HM Recovery Assets LLC

Managing Principal: Evelyn H. Whitaker

“Palm Beach was a board site visit at a rehabilitation villa owned by Hartwell Meridian Holdings.”

The screen changed again.

PALM BEACH REHABILITATION VILLA

Owner: Hartwell Meridian Holdings

“And tonight’s gala is being held at the Meridian Hotel, acquired by Hartwell Meridian Hospitality eighteen months ago.”

A final slide.

THE MERIDIAN HOTEL

Ownership: Hartwell Meridian Hospitality LP

I looked at Sloane.

She no longer looked fragile.

She looked cornered.

“I was not following Dr. Whitaker or Ms. Mercer,” I said. “I was present at properties I own or control.”

The room erupted.

Not loudly.

Worse.

Whispering. Gasps. One laugh from someone who could not help it.

Lila Van Doren looked as though Christmas had become a person and handed her a knife.

Chase grabbed the edge of the podium.

“You hid this from me.”

I turned to him.

“No, Chase. You ignored it. There’s a difference.”

His voice lowered, dangerous now.

“You think this makes you powerful? You think buying buildings makes you less pathetic?”

There he was.

The real man beneath the tuxedo.

I felt the room shift again. People had been waiting for remorse. Confusion. Denial.

Instead, he gave them contempt.

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