Chapter 7 - Blood is Not Thicker Than Cash
The local Nashville business forums were buzzing with the news of the Hawthorne Logistics raid. On Friday afternoon, I received a text from an unknown number. It was an address to a small, unassuming diner on the outskirts of Murfreesboro.
Please, Emily. Just me. No parents. I have nowhere else to turn. - Olivia.
Against my attorney's advice, I drove down to the diner. I found Olivia sitting in a corner booth, wearing an oversized sweatshirt, looking completely stripped of the high-fashion aesthetic she usually curated for her Instagram followers. Her eyes were swollen from crying.
"Thank you for coming," she whispered, her voice cracking as I sat down across from her.
"You have five minutes, Olivia," I said, keeping my coat on. "My lawyers are drafting the final deposition papers for the corporate fraud case, and your name is on three of the checks my father drew from the retirement fund."
"I didn't know about the retirement fund, I swear!" she sobbed, reaching across the table to grab my hand. I pulled my hand back, placing it firmly in my lap. "Dad just told me he was helping me out with rent because I was family. Emily... Nathan blocked my number. His father sent a security team to my condo yesterday and handed me an eviction notice. The condo was under a Reed corporate lease. They gave me seventy-two hours to leave."
"What did you think was going to happen, Olivia?" I asked, my voice entirely devoid of pity. "Did you think Nathan was going to leave me, marry you, and raise a family with you in a mansion? He used you because you were easy to manipulate, and because it gave him power over our family."
"He told me he loved me," she whispered, staring at her lap. "He told me he was only marrying you for the business merger, and that once the contract was locked in for five years, he would divorce you and we could be together."
I let out a sharp, bitter breath. "And you believed him? You stood in my dressing room, held my grandmother's pearl comb, and watched me smile while knowing you were carrying his child on a lie?"
"I was scared," she wept. "Mom told me if I said anything, she would disown me. She said the family would go bankrupt and it would be my fault."
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"It is your fault," I said firmly, standing up from the booth. "You chose to step into his bed. You chose to keep the secret. And now, you get to choose how you're going to survive without my money. The condo is gone, Olivia. The family business is gone. If I were you, I’d start looking for a good public defender."
I walked out of the diner, leaving her alone with a glass of water and the reality of the choices she had made.
