Chapter 4 - The Unraveling
Nathaniel looked like he had been struck by lightning. "You can't do this! I am the face of Crowe Enterprises!"
"You were the manager of my legacy," Arthur corrected sternly. "And you failed. You spent years hiding Owen from the public because you thought his disability weakened our family brand. You treated your own blood like a flaw on your ledger."
Arthur looked over at me, his sharp blue eyes softening as he took in my worn uniform and the quiet dignity with which I stood beside his grandson.
"And you," Arthur said gently. "You must be Nora Vance."
"Yes, sir," I said, standing up respectfully.
"Owen has told me a lot about you in the last ten minutes via text," Arthur smiled faintly. "He says you gave him a voice in a room full of noise."
Nathaniel let out a bitter, desperate laugh. "This is insane! You're listening to a girl who wipes down tables for twenty dollars an hour over your own son?!"
"This 'girl' showed more character in sixty seconds than you have in forty years, Nathaniel," Arthur snapped. "Security will escort you out of the building. Your personal accounts associated with the firm have been frozen pending an audit."
Two heavy-set bodyguards stepped forward, quietly placing themselves on either side of Nathaniel. The billionaire looked around the room—at his father, at his silent son, and at me. The realization that his reign was over hit him all at once. Without another word, his head bowed in defeat, Nathaniel was led out of the Ellery Room.
The room fell quiet once more, but the heavy, suffocating tension was gone.
Arthur rolled his chair closer to our table. Owen reached out and placed his hand over his grandfather's, signing swiftly with his free hand: Thank you, Grandpa.
You don't need to thank me, kiddo, Arthur signed back, his hands moving with the smooth familiarity of someone who had learned the language long ago out of love for his grandson. I should have done this years ago.
Arthur then turned his attention to me. "Miss Vance, Owen tells me you have an eviction notice in your pocket."
May you like
I flushed with embarrassment, my hand instinctively dropping to my apron pocket. "I... it's just a temporary setback, Mr. Crowe. I can handle it."
"Nonsense," Arthur said flatly. "No one who stands up to Nathaniel Crowe on behalf of my grandson will ever worry about rent again."
