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"Miss Evans," I said, standing automatically. "I don't recall having an appointment—"
"Cut the polite British bullshit, Edward. I know exactly what your family did to Lili, and I'm here to make sure you understand the full scope of your Mother's manipulation."
I glanced toward my office door, expecting to see my assistant hovering with apologies for letting an unauthorized visitor through. Instead, the doorway remained empty—apparently Cece had simply bulldozed her way past security through sheer force of will.
"I don't know what you think you've discovered—"
"Sit down and shut up." She opened the folder with the precision of someone presenting evidence in court. "Because what I've discovered is that your Mother didn't just orchestrate a scandal. She engineered a hostile takeover using insideinformation, market manipulation, and what I'm pretty sure amounts to corporate fraud."
Despite myself, I found myself sitting. Cece's fury was compelling in its intensity, and something in her tone suggested she had information I desperately needed to hear.
"Two months ago, I started noticing irregularities in the financial reporting around Gardens & Home's UK operations," she continued, spreading documents across my desk. "Suddenly, advertising revenue was down, distribution deals were falling through, and financial projections that had been optimistic in January were mysteriously revised downward by March."
I looked at the papers she'd arranged—financial statements, emails, what appeared to be recorded phone conversations. "Where did you get these?"
"I have contacts in media finance, Edward. People who know that numbers don't lie the way people do." She pointed to a spreadsheet highlighting revenue discrepancies. "This is the smoking gun. Gardens & Home's UK advertising revenue didn't naturally decline—it was systematically sabotaged."
"Sabotaged how?"
"Your Mother sits on the board of Meridian Holdings, which owns controlling interests in three major advertising agencies. Those agencies represent approximately sixty percent of Gardens & Home's UK client base." Cece's finger traced a line of data. "Between February and April, every single one of those agencies received 'strategic guidance' to redirect their lifestyle programming budgets away from 'niche American content' and toward 'established British broadcasters.'"
The implications hit me like a physical blow. "She tanked the company's revenue to justify the acquisition."
"She didn't just tank it—she created a financial crisis that made Gardens & Home desperate enough to accept anyreasonable offer. Your firm's bid wasn't competitive because it was the only option left after she'd eliminated all alternatives."
I studied the documents more carefully, my legal training helping me understand the devastating pattern. Mother hadn't just photographed my relationship with Lili—she'd been systematically destroying Lili's professional life from the moment I'd shown interest.
"There's more," Cece said grimly. "The 'financial irregularities' Malcolm mentioned in his termination call to Lili? Those were manufactured too. Someone with access to Gardens & Home's internal systems had been creating phantom expenses and hiding revenue to make the books look worse than they actually were."
"Someone with access..." I trailed off as the full picture emerged. "The firm had been conducting due diligence for months. We had complete access to their financial systems."
"And your Mother had complete access to your firm's findings." Cece's smile was sharp as a blade. "She knew exactly which pressure points to manipulate because you were giving her a real-time roadmap of the company's vulnerabilities."
The betrayal felt complete now. Every conversation I'd had with Mother about the acquisition, every update I'd provided about due diligence progress, every detail I'd shared about timeline and strategy—all of it had been weaponized against the woman I loved.
Before I could fully process the scope of the manipulation, my office door opened again. James entered, looking haggard and guilty, his usual composed demeanor completely absent.
"Edward, I—" He stopped when he saw Cece, then managed a weak smile that held only shadows of his usual charm. "I didn't realize you had company. Though I suppose I should have expected Ms. Evans to find her way here eventually."
Even now, even in the midst of confession, James couldn't help but try to disarm the situation with diplomatic compliments.
"Mr. Atwood." Cece's voice carried a note of grim satisfaction. "Perfect timing. I was just explaining to Edward how his Mother orchestrated the destruction of Lili's career. Perhaps you'd like to add your contribution to the conversation?"
James moved to his usual chair—the same seat he'd occupied during countless late-night strategy sessions, friendly debates, and moments of genuine camaraderie.
Twenty years of friendship, and he still knew exactly where to sit. "I suppose there's no point in pretending anymore."
"The photographer," I said quietly, my voice becoming softer as the betrayal sank in, I'd never had to question James's loyalty. "You knew about the photographer."
James met my eyes for the first time since entering, and I saw something break in his expression. "Edward—"
"Youknew." The words came out barely above a whisper, though the quiet made them more devastating than any shout. "My oldest friend. My closest confidant. The man who's been lecturing me about honesty and trust for weeks. You knew."
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this." James leaned forward, his diplomat's instincts kicking in even as his voice cracked with genuine remorse. "Your Mother approached me two weeks after Lili arrived. She said she was concerned about your attachment. She framed it as protecting you from making a mistake that could damage your career."
I studied his face—the same face that had laughed with me through Oxford, celebrated my professional victories, been my anchor through every family crisis. "And you believed her?"
"I believed she had your best interests at heart. I believed that sometimes friends have to make difficult choices toprotect each other from themselves." James's smile was self-deprecating, tinged with the bitter humor he'd always used to deflect from painful truths. "Rather naive of me, considering I was simultaneously conducting my own secret affair with your sister."