Chapter 4 - The Confrontation
“Stay here,” I ordered Claire, my voice dropping to a dangerous, icy register.
“Ethan, no!” she cried, standing up, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. “He’s dangerous. He has people, lawyers, men who can ruin you!”
“This is my home, Claire. And those are my sons,” I said, locking eyes with her. For the first time in a year, the distance between us felt completely erased, replaced by a fierce, protective bond. “I am not the struggling programmer he bullied two years ago. I am a father now. And I protect my family.”
I walked down the grand staircase, my mother meeting me at the bottom. She had heard the commotion.
“Ethan, what is happening?” she asked.
“Richard Vance is at the gate,” I said, reaching into the hallway drawer and pulling out my phone. “Mom, call my head of security, Marcus. Tell him to bring three of his men to the front door. Now.”
I walked out of the front door into the chilly autumn afternoon. The iron gates slowly swung open as I pressed the remote bypass on my phone. Richard Vance walked through, his expensive Italian leather shoes clicking against my stone driveway. He looked as polished and arrogant as ever, his hands slid casually into the pockets of his tailored overcoat.
“Well, well, Ethan,” Richard drawled, stopping a few feet from me. “I must say, I’m impressed. Quite an upgrade from that depressing little apartment in the city. I always knew you had potential. It’s just a shame you have such poor taste in company.”
“Get off my property, Richard,” I said, my voice dangerously calm.
“Oh, come now. Is that any way to treat an old friend?” Richard sneered. “I saw you at the park, Ethan. Or rather, my associates did. It seems your lovely ex-wife has returned to play. And she brought some very interesting baggage with her.”
My jaw clenched. “They are none of your business.”
“They are my business when they threaten the stability of my investments,” Richard stepped closer, his eyes hardening. “Your company, Carter Tech, is about to go public. If the media finds out that the brilliant, self-made billionaire Ethan Carter has a secret, destitute family sleeping on park benches, your stock will plummet before it even hits the market. I own ten percent of your competitors, Ethan. I can’t have your little domestic drama ruining my margins.”
He tapped his chest. “I want your proprietary encryption patent. Sign it over to my holding company by tomorrow morning, or I will make sure every tabloid in the country has photos of Claire and your bastards living like vagrants. I’ll make sure the SEC receives those old forged tax documents from two years ago. I will destroy you, Ethan. Just like I broke your marriage.”
I looked at him, and instead of fear, I felt a cold, calculating resolve. I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the screen of my phone. I had started recording the conversation the moment I walked out the door.
“You think you can still blackmail me, Richard?” I asked softly.
May you like
“I know I can,” he smiled wickedly. “Because you’re a soft man, Ethan. You always were. You’d rather play the hero than protect your bottom line. See you at the negotiation table tomorrow. Or see you in court.”
He turned on his heel and walked back toward his car, leaving me standing in the cold, a storm brewing in my chest.
