But first I needed one last thing from the company: a heavily encrypted drive I had hidden beneath my old desk, containing full transaction logs and internal approvals not stored on the main network.
So I went back.
I wore dark jeans, a cream cashmere sweater, low boots, and no makeup strong enough to hide the bruise on my cheek. I didn’t care who saw it. A woman with visible proof of violence walked differently through the world.
The lobby of Randolph’s headquarters was all stone and glass and masculine insecurity. Staff members stared as I crossed the floor. Word of the gala had traveled fast. I was ten steps from the security barrier when the main elevator opened and Prescott stepped out with his assistant on his arm.
He had not even waited a full day to parade her.
Prescott saw me and smiled broadly. “Well,” he said, loud enough for the entire lobby to hear, “look who came crawling back.”
She laughed beside him.
“I told you she would,” Prescott said without taking his eyes off me. “They always do when the money runs out.”
He took in my jeans, my sweater, the bruise. “Couldn’t even afford a proper suit for your walk of shame?”
She lifted her wrist, deliberately drawing my gaze to the watch there. Diamond-set Cartier. Forty thousand dollars if it was authentic, and I knew it was. “Do you like it?” she asked sweetly. “He bought it for me this morning. He said freedom deserved a gift.”
I smiled. That watch had almost certainly been charged to his corporate card, which meant he had purchased a luxury present for his companion using funds tied to an entity already in covenant breach and about to be controlled by my father’s firm.
“You should hold onto it tightly,” I said.
Her smile faltered. “Excuse me?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “And since he bought it on a corporate expense account, it may be the last expensive thing either of you gets to keep.”
Prescott’s expression changed. “What did you just say?”
Instead of answering, I took the black biometric access card from my pocket and tapped it against the restricted scanner for the private executive elevator. The barrier unlocked instantly.
“How is your card still active?” Prescott demanded.
I didn’t look back.