Chapter 2 - The Price of Admission

Cynthia Vale’s lawyer, a slick, overpriced suit named Richard Vance, requested a mediation meeting before officially filing the lawsuit. He was hoping to intimidate me into a quiet, out-of-court financial settlement to save the Vales from total bankruptcy.

We met in the glass-walled conference room of David’s downtown law firm.

When Cynthia walked in, she looked remarkably different from the woman at the wedding. She wore a severe black suit, her hair pulled back tightly, her face pale and drawn. Preston trailed behind her like an obedient dog, avoiding my eyes entirely.

Richard Vance slapped a thick folder on the table. "Miss Thompson," he began, his voice dripping with condescension. "Your little stunt caused my clients severe reputational damage. They have been removed from the boards of three charities, their credit lines have been frozen, and Mrs. Vale has suffered severe emotional trauma. We are prepared to settle this quietly for two million dollars. If you refuse, we will drag your name through the mud in a public trial."

David sat back in his chair, looking at me. We had prepared for this. We had prepared for much more than this.

I leaned forward, clasping my hands on the polished mahogany table.

"Mr. Vance," I said, entirely unbothered. "Defamation requires a false statement. Everything I said on that stage was an absolute, verifiable fact. And as for breach of contract, I’m the one who paid the vendors. The only contract broken was the social contract of basic human decency."

Cynthia slammed her hand on the table. "You malicious little witch! You ruined my family!"

"You ruined your own family, Cynthia," I replied coldly. "You spent money you didn't have to impress people who don't care about you. But let’s talk about money, shall we?"

I nodded to David. He slid a sleek black folder across the table toward Richard Vance.

"During our due diligence for this meeting," David explained smoothly, "we looked into the Vale family's corporate holdings. Specifically, the commercial real estate portfolio."

Preston’s head snapped up, genuine panic finally registering on his face.

"It turns out," I continued, "that six months ago, Preston’s father put the remaining equity of your commercial properties up as collateral for a massive, high-interest loan from a private equity firm. A firm that specializes in acquiring distressed assets. You needed cash to keep up appearances and, I assume, to try and save your failing business."

Vance frowned, opening the folder and scanning the documents. Cynthia looked confused.

"What does this have to do with anything?" Cynthia demanded.

"It has everything to do with this," I smiled. "Three days ago, that private equity firm decided to sell off a portion of its distressed debt portfolio. My company’s investment arm purchased it. We bought it for pennies on the dollar because your credit rating is practically nonexistent."

The room went dead silent. Vance stopped reading. The color drained completely from his face.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Cynthia?" I asked softly. "I own the debt on your properties. I own the mortgage on your husband's business warehouse. If you proceed with this ridiculous lawsuit, I will immediately call in the loan. I will foreclose on everything you have left. You won't just be embarrassed in society. You will be on the street."

Cynthia’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She looked at Preston, begging for him to fix it, to tell her it was a lie. But Preston just buried his face in his hands, quietly sobbing.

"So here is my counter-offer," I said, standing up and smoothing my skirt. "You drop this lawsuit today. You sign a non-disclosure and non-disparagement agreement stating you will never speak my name, or my family’s name, ever again. In exchange, I will restructure your debt into a standard payment plan so you can at least try to dig yourselves out of the grave you dug. But if I ever hear a whisper of your snobbery directed at me or my parents again, I will burn your little empire to the ground."

I looked down at Vance. "Have them sign it by 5:00 PM."