I smile bitterly as my father's confidence starts to waver. It's barely recognizable, but I see the gleam leave his eyes. He's questioning himself now, having not expected for me to have more competition out there.
After all, I'm just Harley.
"Launching an actual business of that magnitude takes time, and a lot of know-how. You'd also need someone who could code, since you can't. That someone would have to be willing to forfeit a chance of being a business partner, which is unlikely, in order for you to make the money you'd need to expand the business without dipping deep into the red and draining your personal funds for the business."
I continue to beam at them. They continue to glare at me.
Family reunion s. Gotta love them.
"Besides," I go on, staring down at my nails like they're far more fascinating than the twin glares, "I've already sold your business to Finn Collier. No take-backs."
I look up to see the color drain from their faces.
"Like I said; checkmate was five moves ago. Guess that information never leaked, huh?"
A wicked smirk quirks up on one side of my lips as I stare my father directly into his furious eyes.
"Told you I'd win at that game one day. Could have avoided all this if I hadn't been turned away like a lost cause and stripped of everything for no reason at all."
Cynthia bares her teeth. "That money was never yours," she growls. "It was your father's. Your grandfather left it to him to do with as he pleased. There were no stipulations saying it had to go to you."
I eye her carelessly before looking back at my father.
"Ezra knows the truth," I say, using my father's name. "My grandfather was worried about a young girl having that much money so early in life with no one to help her manage it. My father was supposed to manage it for me. My grandfather just trusted he'd do it, because we were family."
He leans up, his cold eyes still in place as he stares at me with no affection, no remorse, and no regret, and certainly no hint of hidden pride for the mastermind I've been. Not what I had hoped for.
It worked for Jessie. She proved to be cutthroat and malicious, and he was proud.
Holy fucking shit. I am not here to make my father proud, damn it.
Shaking my head, I continue to stare at him even as the door opens and another person steps in.
"I should have let you rot in your mother's care. You should be grateful I even gave you a stable house to live in."
I was constantly reminded I was disposable and regarded with the same respect a sheet stain gets. In fact, I'm positive he wished I had been a sheet stain.
Stable isn't what I would have called our home. The place I hated to be.
"Make her give me the half of my business that is mine," another voice says, reminding me of the extra person who has walked into the room.
Jessie Hughes.
My smile grows at her choice of words as I turn to face her. "Yes. Make me," I echo. "Please try to make me."
She opens her mouth to speak, but I redirect my attention to Cynthia and cut off Jessie before she can spew pointless, empty threats.
"I'll make you an offer I doubt you'll refuse."
She stiffens and silence ensues.
I take that as a cue to continue.
"I'll sell you my half of Jessie's business," I go on, listening as Jessie snorts.
"Then she can just sell it back to me," she points out, and my grin only grows.
Five moves ago. It was over five moves ago. They still haven't caught up.
Cynthia's unwavering gaze stays fixed on me as she waits for the catch.
"I'll sell it to you for exactly what I paid for it," I go on.
Cynthia tilts her head, and everyone listens with rapt attention like I've never received from them before.
"But it won't be a fraction of the income my father's business was lending your lifestyle."
Her eyes harden. It's not like she didn't already know that.
My father says nothing. Just observes us silently, giving his wife the reins as predicted.
"Or," I go on, holding up a finger, "I could put you in touch with Holland and Grove Mortgage, who wishes to require this half of her business for a very reasonable payment. If you want to sell to them, I'll give you my half of Jessie's business. You'll make a small killing off that deal, and it'll tide you over until you and Ezra can find a new source of income."
They're spending habits have reduced their savings dramatically, and the shares in their old company aren't going to sustain them as well now that Cynthia won't be drawing in the big board checks. Yeah, did I mention she's not on the board anymore?
He's not on the board either.
I'm sure they assumed it was just until this little "problem" was worked out with his firm command and finger pointing.
I only needed half the board's approval to sell the entire business after I became primary shareholder. I picked the half that would turn against my father, keep it quiet, and Finn can eliminate the others somehow on his own.
"Mother, you can't possibly be considering that deal. That company would push me out of my own business. They'd find a thousand loopholes to do it. You can't."
Cynthia's eyes are murderous right now. I'm beaming still.
Without the board, they won't have the monthly income they need-high maintenance jackasses. They'll have to start selling those shares to keep from losing what they have. Once those shares are gone …
Then it's time to start selling off everything you own and downsizing.
It just keeps rolling downhill from there.
Jessie's business is just a delay, but it's a delay they need.
"You'd just give me that half?" Cynthia finally asks coolly.
"With the stipulation you sell to them," I remind her, smirking when Jessie bursts out with a string of demands to her mother that Cynthia coldly ignores.
Even as Jessie begs her to say no, I see it in her eyes when Cynthia sees a chance to keep them afloat for a while.
"Where do I sign?"
I smirk as Jessie launches into a new argument, calling her mother a bunch of names. Cynthia stands, getting into her face and yelling.
"We have no choice! I'll help you start anew when we're stable again!"
"No choice?! Start anew?! This is my business! Mine!"
They argue and bicker, raging at each other so predictably until it dissolves into name-calling once more.
"Ungrateful little whore!"
"You bitch!"
I stare at my father the entire time they swap insults and argue over money. Though my father did it with a cooler, less passionate demeanor than Cynthia, this is reminiscent of the argument my father and I had so many years ago when he told me my future was less significant than Jessie's.
Now Cynthia is telling her daughter that her future is less significant than her own.
All along, I keep my gaze locked with eyes too similar to mine.
"You think you've won something here today?" my father asks me, his jaw ticking.
I can barely hear him over the incessant roar of the shrill argument that hasn't yet peaked.
"I think I proved something today," I tell him firmly. "You always underestimated, devalued me, and overlooked me. Today, you have no choice but to see me."
A smirk forms at his lips. This man has nothing at all to smirk about.
"I'll rebuild, Harley. I have too many friends in the wonderful world of business for me to be driven into destitution, if that's what you think you've accomplished. This is a minor setback."
I have no doubt he'll rebound. Destitution was never the goal.
I say nothing, just quirk an eyebrow at him.
"But you? One slip is all it'll take for you," he says, confusing me as he leans up, placing his elbows on his knees. "You see, when all you do is make enemies with powerful people, eventually those people step on you when you're down. Remember that. Because you won't always be on top. If anyone should know that, it's you."
I laugh bitterly.
"You can't do it, can you? Can't admit that I'm better than you ever thought I'd be."
My eyes narrow as his lips curve out in a stupid grin. "You're not better, Harley. I never said you weren't a capable human being. I said you weren't worth that money. I said you weren't worth my time. I still say that and mean it. You're still playing games. You're still the same, pathetic, lonely, irrelevant girl you were when I finally got rid of you. You're still a leech begging for my affections. Who really wins checkmate, daughter? Who really makes the world go round in this scenario?"
He never raises his voice. He's never had to. As always, his calm condescension oozes out of him with more force than any shouting match.
Unbelievable.
The fact that it actually hurts to see him smiling like I'm the loser in this room actually pisses me off. Even now, he still sees me as worthless. Even now that I've bested him and set him back years, took his damn company, he still can't admit that I would have been a fierce asset.
Even now he demeans me.
Mocks me.
Laughs at me with those cold, cruel eyes.
Even now he still sees me as less.
Disgusted with myself for expecting more, I stand up, brush out the wrinkles of my dress, and stare at the mother and daughter who are still furiously screaming at each other.
"Call my office and have my assistant set it up when you're ready to sign," I say without waiting for a response.
I'm done.