Page 87 of Sweetest Revenge

Maxwell shot the man a look as well but said nothing. When he turned back to me, I could see that he was a bit curious about my answer too.

That man. I remembered more about him now. I had seen him when he was younger, his hair shorter. Back then his glasses were round as opposed to the rectangular ones he wore now. His name was on the tip of my tongue. If only I could remember it…

“I thought Warren was a terrible person who didn’t care about anything but money,” I admitted. “How could I not when he seemed to ruin lives so easily?”

For some reason, the man’s gaze was making me feel like I had to defend myself. Even though I now knew my father was not the man I thought he was, I still had to work up the courage to actually read the articles.

A small part of me still couldn’t come to terms with it. But I would have to.

“Until you saw just how awful those men can truly be?” the man asked.

I ground my teeth at his accusation. Nick had been arrested, and his company was now Warren’s to clean up as the biggest stakeholder. Something he accomplished in a matter of days by injecting his own people into the higher positions and implementing his well-oiled takeover process.

“Don’t act like he’s doing this just out of the goodness of his heart. It’s not like Warren doesn’t benefit from this, right?” I asked, turning to him. “How much of your portfolio came from taking down people like this?”

“I don’t keep count,” Warren said, his eyes falling to his computer. Oh, he knew. That’s why he wasn’t looking at me.

“Seventy percent.”

My heart dropped as I looked at the man. He knows too much. Suddenly, I didn’t like him anymore.

“So, like… a billion?”

Silence. Warren’s eyes found mine, his eyebrows raised as if to ask, Are you insulting me?

My face heated.

I was never in on the money part. I knew a few things. Brands. Events. Certain people. But I’d never handled the financial side, even when I was working with Father.

“A couple billion?”

“Well, to be exact?—”

“Tristian,” Warren warned, glaring at the man. “She doesn’t need to know everything involving my money.”

Tristian?

“It’s not like it’s a secret that you’re rich, Warr?—”

“I thought I knew you from somewhere!” I interrupted, slamming my hand against the desk and standing. Tristian stood off to the side, his face blank and his arms crossed over his chest. “Tristian Kade. You hand-delivered the cease and desist to my house after my father killed himself.”

Warren’s lawyer.

It had been a short interaction. He showed up on our doorstep with the paperwork after I had been talking to each and every news outlet that would hear me.

I hadn’t even remembered his face because of how quickly I had shut the door on his face. But boy, did I fucking remember him now.

My emotions were raw. My entire life had been turned upside down. I’d been betrayed. And then he had the balls to come to my house to try to control what I said?

Of course I’d slammed the door in his fucking face. I’d do it again.

“That wasn’t all,” he said. “Maybe if you had paused and looked through the mountain of paperwork I handed you, you would have seen his life insurance, severance package, and an extra bereavement support in there for you as well.”

My chest puffed at his coldness. Another lie. I waited for Warren to interject, but he said nothing.

“You gave them bereavement support?” Maxwell asked, looking at Warren. “After everything?"

“We never saw that shit,” I hissed. “And what do you mean after everything? Maybe my father wasn’t… perfect. Made some bad deals. But his death was Warren’s fault anyway.”

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