Chapter 7: The Desperate Ploy
Even in the face of total annihilation, a narcissist’s instinct is to claw at the dirt for a weapon. Pushed into a corner, Beatrice wiped her face, smearing her expensive makeup, and glared at the matriarch with raw, unhinged hatred.
"You think you’re so smart," Beatrice hissed, her voice trembling but laced with a final, desperate venom. "If you kick me out, I will destroy the Vanguard name. I’ll go to the tabloids tomorrow. I’ll say Arthur was abusive. I’ll say the Vanguard fortune is built on illegal labor and bribery. I will burn your precious family name to the ground in the court of public opinion. I’ll write a book, Evelyn. I’ll go on every morning talk show in America!"
Evelyn didn't look angry; she looked profoundly bored. She glanced at Harrison.
Harrison reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thin manila folder, tossing it onto the floor in front of Beatrice. "Go ahead and open that."
Beatrice scrambled forward, her manicured nails tearing at the folder. Inside were high-definition glossy photographs and transcripts. Her eyes darted across the pages, her breath hitching in her throat. They were pictures of her with the CEO of a rival logistics company, taken in a private hotel room in Dubai three months before Arthur’s death. The transcripts detailed her explicit plans to sell Vanguard trade secrets to the rival firm in exchange for an executive position.
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"Corporate espionage is a federal crime," Harrison stated coldly. "The moment you utter a single word to the press about the Vanguard family, these files will be delivered to the FBI, the SEC, and the Department of Justice. You won't be doing interviews on morning shows, Beatrice. You will be doing twenty years in a federal penitentiary."
The final nail had been hammered into the coffin. Beatrice stared at the photographs, her entire body shaking. Her last desperate ploy had been crushed before she even fully formed it. She was trapped, outsmarted, and utterly defeated by a woman she had foolishly dismissed as weak.
