They Erased Me. I Owned Their Empire Chapter 05

I laughed so hard the waitress came back to check on me.

Callum raised an eyebrow. I turned my phone toward him.

He read Grant’s message. Then he looked at me.

“Please tell me,” he said slowly, “that you signed something recently.”

“Section six,” I said. “Mutual waiver of all business interests. Including investment funds.”

“He wrote it?”

“His lawyer drafted it. He drove it to me personally. He told me I didn’t have anything to protect.”

Callum put his fork down. Pressed his hand to his mouth. His shoulders shook.

“I’ve worked in finance for fourteen years,” he said. “That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”

I typed back to Grant.

[Check Section 6 of your postnup. You were so worried about protecting yours.]

[Merry Christmas.]

Then I blocked him.

Callum dropped me home at three. Grant’s side of the closet was half-empty. He’d come back while I was out. Grabbed his suits. His watches. He’d left his wedding ring on my pillow like a threat.

I put it in a drawer and went to sleep.

When I woke up, the internet had found me.

Bianca had posted at dawn. A black-and-white photo. Her face bare. Eyes swollen. The emeralds in her open palm.

Last night was supposed to be the happiest night of my life. Instead, my sister ambushed our family with forged documents and lies in front of 400 people.

Wren has struggled with jealousy and her mental health for years. We tried so hard to include her. We love her.

Please be kind to her. And please be kind to my family. We’re heartbroken.

Fifty-two thousand likes.

Mom had shared it.

Our brave girl.

Not me. Never me.

The comments were worse than anything I’d imagined.

Delusional sister energy.

Imagine being THIS jealous of your adopted sister.

Northgate needs to sue her for using their name.

Someone found my old LinkedIn. Someone found my building. Someone sent a pizza to my door with HAPPY BIRTHDAY PSYCHO written in pepperoni.

I sat on the kitchen floor with my back against the cabinet.

There it was. The old cold feeling. The certainty I’d carried since I was thirteen. That no matter what was true, the story

would always be hers.

My phone buzzed.

Callum. [Northgate’s lawyers just issued a statement confirming you as principal. It’s on the Globe’s site. Also, our security team is sending someone to your building. Tell me what you need. Food? Quiet? Company?]

I stared at it. A list. Options. He wanted me to choose.

[Quiet,] I typed. [And maybe soup later.]

[Quiet now, Soup at six. What kind?]

[Tomato.]

[Tomato. Done.]

I laughed. Out loud. Alone on my kitchen floor.

At four o’clock, an email arrived. No subject line. An address I didn’t recognize.

Wren. It’s Theo.

I know you probably don’t want to hear from me. I wouldn’t either.

I’m on the board. I’ve been reviewing the books since last night because something in your letter didn’t sit right with

Why would Grant need to “file” in January? What was he waiting for?
I found out.

My big brother. The one who used to walk me to school before Bianca came. The one who’d stopped, the year she

arrived, and never explained why.

There was an attachment.

A spreadsheet from Calloway Hotels’ renovation budget. Eighteen months of transfers. Small ones. Monthly. Never

enough to trip an audit.

All of them going to a company called BG Holdings, LLC.

B.G.

Bianca. Grant.

The memo line on every single one read the same thing.

For our future.