Chapter 3
1342 Words
Fifteen Years Ago
Seventeen-year-old Sienna pressed her face against the car window, observing the orange and gold streaks of the Blue Ridge peaks as they passed. Her father drove, humming off-key, one hand on the wheel.
"Stop fidgeting," her mother said from the passenger seat.
"I'm not fidgeting."
Her phone buzzed. Got into Duke. Early admission. Holy s**t. - Marcus
She grinned. Typed back. KNEW IT.
Sienna looked at her father. He'd stopped humming. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the road.
"Dad? You okay?"
"Just thinking." He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "This meeting today could change everything. If Richard Ashford invests, we expand. If he doesn't..."
"He will. Your tech is revolutionary."
"Revolutionary doesn't always mean profitable. Not to men like Ashford."
They pulled up to a glass-and-steel building. Ashford & Associates. The logo gleamed in chrome.
Inside, everything was cold. Modern. Expensive.
A receptionist led them to a conference room. "Mr. Ashford will be with you shortly."
Shortly turned into forty minutes.
Sienna watched her father pace. Check his watch. Adjust his tie.
The door opened.
Richard Ashford walked in like he owned the world. Salt-and-pepper hair. Tailored suit. Cold blue eyes.
"Robert Cross." No handshake. No apology. "I've reviewed your proposal."
"And?" Her father's voice was eager. Too eager.
"It's interesting. Innovative, even." Ashford sat. "But not viable."
"Not viable? Mr. Ashford, the applications alone—"
"Are theoretical. You're asking me to invest twelve million in a company with no proven revenue stream."
"We have prototypes. Test results. The technology works."
"The technology is expensive." Ashford's voice was ice. "I'm not a charity. I invest in winners. Your company is not a winner."
Silence.
Sienna watched hope drain from her father's face.
Ashford went on, "But I am interested in your patents." I will buy them all. Two million. You walk away, I take the tech, and everyone is happy.
"Two million? Those patents are worth ten times that."
"To you, maybe." Ashford slid a folder across the table. "Contract's ready. Sign today, money's in your account tomorrow."
"And if I don't?"
Ashford smiled. It was terrible. "Then good luck finding another investor. I'll make sure every firm in the state knows Cross Innovations is a bad bet."
Her mother's hand found Sienna's. Squeezed hard.
"You can't do that," her father said.
"I can. I will. You have until end of business today. After that, the offer drops to one million." Ashford stood. "You see how this works?"
He left.
Sienna watched her father sit down heavily. Put his head in his hands.
"He's going to destroy us," her father whispered.
A knock on the conference room door.
A young man entered. Early twenties. Dark hair. He looked like Richard Ashford but softer somehow.
"Sorry to interrupt. I'm Damon. Mr. Ashford's son." He held out a folder. "You left this in the lobby."
Sienna's father took it. "Thank you."
Damon hesitated. Glanced at the contract on the table. "Did he give you the ultimatum?"
"The what?"
"Two million today, one million tomorrow." Damon's jaw tightened. "It's his favorite move. Creates artificial urgency."
"It's working."
"Don't." Damon looked at Sienna's father. Really looked at him. "Your technology is brilliant. I read your proposal. It's worth way more than two million."
"Your father doesn't think so."
"My father thinks predatory acquisition is good business." Damon picked up the contract. Ripped it in half. "Don't sign this. Find other investors. I can give you names."
"Why would you help me?"
"Because I've watched my father destroy good people for twenty years. I'm tired of it." He pulled out a business card. "Call me. I'll help however I can."
He left.
Sienna stared at the torn contract.
"Robert," her mother said. "What are you going to do?"
Her father stood. "I'm going to fight."
Present Day
Sienna woke gasping.
The memory clung to her like smoke. She could still see her father's face. Still hear Damon's voice, younger but unmistakable.
I've watched my father destroy good people for twenty years.
She grabbed her phone—3:47 am.
Seventeen missed calls from Marcus.
She called him back.
"Jesus Christ, Sienna. I've been trying to reach you for hours."
"What's wrong?"
"Check your email. The one from Patricia."
Sienna pulled up her laptop. Found the email from her private investigator.
Read.
Her hands started shaking.
Patricia had meticulously reconstructed the final days of Cross Innovations.
October 15, 2010: Robert Cross meets with Richard Ashford. Refuses to sell patents.
October 16, 2010: Ashford & Associates launches hostile acquisition attempt.
October 20, 2010: Cross Innovations files for bankruptcy protection.
October 23, 2010: Damon Ashford resigns from Ashford & Associates—releases statement condemning his father's business practices.
November 2, 2010: Robert Cross found dead in his study. Suicide by prescription overdose.
November 15, 2010: Richard Ashford acquires Cross Innovations patents in bankruptcy auction. Pays $200,000.
The room spun.
"Sienna—"
"He tried to help." Her voice sounded distant. "Damon. He tried to help my father."
"Yeah. And when it didn't work, he quit. Walked away from the family business."
"My father still died."
"I know."
Sienna stared at the screen. At the dates. At the gap between when Damon quit and when her father died.
Thirteen days.
"What are you thinking?" Marcus asked.
"I'm thinking I don't know who the enemy is anymore."
"Sienna—"
"Richard Ashford destroyed my father. But Damon tried to stop him. Damon quit."
"So?"
"So maybe I've been wrong."
Her phone buzzed. Another call is coming through.
Damon.
"Marcus, I have to go."
"Don't answer that."
"I have to."
She switched calls. "Hello?"
"I couldn't sleep." Damon's voice was rough. Tired. "I keep thinking about tonight. About what I said."
"Damon—"
"I need you to know something. When my father went after Cross Innovations, I tried to stop him. I gave your father contacts. Other investors. I did everything I could."
"I know."
Silence.
"You know?"
"I had you investigated. My PI found the timeline. Found your resignation letter." Sienna closed her eyes. "You tried to help him."
"It wasn't enough. He still—" Damon's voice cracked. "Your father still died. And my father still profited. I've carried that for fifteen years, Sienna."
"It wasn't your fault."
"Wasn't it? I was part of that company. Even if I didn't agree with the methods, I benefited from them."
"You were twenty-three."
"Old enough to know better."
The words echoed what Marcus had said to her.
"Damon," she said quietly. "I need to ask you something."
"Anything."
"When you came to Miami. When you sought me out. Was it guilt?"
A long pause.
"At first? Yes. I wanted to apologize. To make amends somehow." He took a breath. "But then I saw you at that gala. And you looked at me like I was the enemy. And I realized—"
"What?"
"That you have every right to. That if destroying me gives you peace, I'll let you."
Sienna's throat tightened.
"But," he continued, "I'm also hoping you won't. Because somewhere between that first look and tonight, I started hoping we could be something else."
"What else?"
"I don't know yet. But I'd like to find out."
Outside her window, Miami was starting to wake—first light touches the bay.
"So would I," she whispered.
She heard his exhale—relief and something else.
"Have breakfast with me," he said. "Right now. I'll pick you up."
"Damon, it's four in the morning."
"Best time for pancakes."
Despite everything, she smiled. "You're insane."
"Probably. Is that a yes?"
Sienna looked at her reflection in the window. At the woman who'd spent fifteen years building armor. Planning revenge.
It may be time to try something different.
"It's a yes."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
He hung up.
Sienna sat in the darkness, her father's ghost finally quiet.
Maybe Damon Ashford wasn't the enemy.
Maybe he was the only person who understood.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
- Writer
