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CHAPTER 23

C hapter 23

As Sebastian had stared at Rebecca’s diary the night before, something had shifted inside him. Her words about love transcending loss made him question everything he thought he knew about what mattered most.

Sebastian arrived at the Westfield Development offices at dawn Thursday morning, two hours before even the most dedicated associates typically appeared. The building’s lobby echoed with his footsteps, security guards nodding respectfully to the man they assumed was simply demonstrating his legendary work ethic.

If only they knew I’m about to either expose the biggest fraud in company history or lose everything trying.

The past eighteen hours had been the most productive of his professional life. After Victor’s ultimatum, Sebastian had done what he did best—research, analyze, and strategize. But instead of developing acquisition plans, he’d been investigating the man who claimed to hold his future hostage.

What he’d discovered would change everything—if he could prove it in time.

Sebastian settled into his office, spreading documents across his desk with the methodical precision of a detective building a case. Bank statements, loan agreements, corporate filings, correspondence—all obtained through perfectly legal channels that Victor had apparently forgotten Sebastian knew how to navigate.

The pattern was emerging, piece by damning piece. Email exchanges with offshore shell companies that should have raised red flags. Financial transfers that followed suspicious patterns. Authorization documents that looked legitimate but contained subtle inconsistencies that made Sebastian’s forensic accounting background prickle with suspicion.

Victor’s been playing a longer game than I realized. But he made mistakes. I just need time to find them.

His phone buzzed with a text from the private investigator he’d hired at midnight: Preliminary review suggests document irregularities. Need 48-72 hours for forensic accounting analysis. Digital signature verification requires server access—could take longer. Can you delay the board meeting?

Sebastian stared at the message, his heart sinking. The board meeting was in six hours. Victor wouldn’t wait, and Sebastian couldn’t explain why he needed a delay without revealing his suspicions—suspicions he couldn’t yet prove.

The evidence was there, scattered across shell companies and falsified authorizations, but it was circumstantial. Suggestive. Not the smoking gun he needed to destroy Victor’s carefully constructed trap.

His office door opened without a courtesy knock—Victor’s signature power move that Sebastian had tolerated for too long.

“I trust you’ve prepared the Red Lion acquisition papers?” Victor announced, settling into Sebastian’s guest chair with the casual arrogance of a man who believed he held all the cards. “The board meeting is in six hours.”

Sebastian looked up from his documents, keeping his expression carefully neutral despite the fury building in his chest.

“I’ve been doing research,” Sebastian said carefully, watching Victor’s face for tells. “Interesting financial arrangements you’ve structured over the years, Victor. Very...creative.”

A flicker of something—worry? calculation?—crossed Victor’s features before his confident mask returned.

“The financial structures of this company are complex, Sebastian. Perhaps too complex for someone who prefers emotional decision-making to hard analysis.”

He’s fishing. He suspects I know something but isn’t sure how much.

“Meridian Holdings,” Sebastian said, naming one of the shell companies he’d identified. “Apex Capital Solutions. Trinity Investment Group.” He watched Victor’s face carefully. “Quite the network of business relationships.”

Victor’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Standard diversification strategies. Your father understood the importance of multiple revenue streams.”

“Did he?” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, projecting a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “Because I can’t find any board authorizations for several of these arrangements. No meeting minutes. No voting records.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken accusations.

“You’re fishing,” Victor said finally, his voice carrying a note of warning. “And you’re running out of time. The board expects a decision on the Red Lion acquisition in—“ he checked his watch with theatrical precision, “—five hours and forty-three minutes.”

Sebastian’s phone buzzed again. Another text from the investigator: Found discrepancies in authorization signatures. Possible forgery, but need handwriting analysis for court-admissible proof. 72 hours minimum. How urgent is this?

More urgent than you know, Sebastian thought, but typed back: Continue investigation. I’ll handle the immediate situation.

“You seem distracted,” Victor observed, his confident smile returning. “Second thoughts about protecting that little pub owner? Sentiment is expensive, Sebastian. Your entire career expensive, to be precise.”

The casual cruelty in Victor’s voice—the way he dismissed Tessa as a “little pub owner,” the cold calculation of personal destruction—crystallized Sebastian’s understanding. This wasn’t just about business anymore. This was about who he was willing to become.

“Let me be very clear,” Sebastian said, standing and moving to his window overlooking London’s financial district. “I know what you’ve been doing. I know about the shell companies, the fabricated authorizations, the systematic manipulation of company finances. I just can’t prove it yet.”

Victor’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Can’t prove it? Then you know nothing that matters. Suspicion isn’t evidence, Sebastian. And evidence is what the board will demand if you try to make wild accusations against your father’s most trusted partner.”

“Give me seventy-two hours?—“

“You have six hours.” Victor stood, smoothing his suit with predatory satisfaction. “Present the Red Lion acquisition to the board as agreed, or I’ll call in the debt, force the restructuring, and have you removed as CEO. By tomorrow, I’ll be running this company, and that precious pub will be demolished anyway—but you’ll have lost everything for nothing.”

Victor paused at the door, delivering his final blow with surgical precision. “Your choice, Sebastian. Destroy one building and keep your position, or lose everything and watch me destroy it anyway. What would your father do?”

After Victor left, Sebastian remained at his window, staring at the city below without seeing it. His phone contained enough suspicious information to raise questions, but not enough definitive proof to destroy Victor’s carefully constructed trap. The forensic accountants needed time he didn’t have. The digital signature experts required access to servers Victor controlled.

He was trapped between an impossible choice: betray everything he’d discovered about himself and destroy Tessa’s dream, or sacrifice his position and watch Victor do it anyway.

But if I go along with this, if I let Victor win, I become exactly what he’s accused me of being—my father’s son, choosing profit over principle.

His phone rang. Tessa’s name on the screen.

“Sebastian?” Her voice carried concern that made his chest tight. “I wanted to wish you luck with whatever you’re dealing with today. You sounded worried last night.”

Worried doesn’t begin to cover it.

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice rougher than intended. “Tessa, I need you to know—whatever happens with the pub, with us—you’ve changed everything for me. You’ve shown me who I actually am beneath all the corporate armor.”

“That sounds ominously like goodbye,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice that didn’t quite mask her concern. “Should I be worried?”

Yes. Because I’m about to make a choice that will either destroy my career or destroy your dream, and either way, I’m not sure you’ll forgive me.

“Just...trust me, all right? Whatever you hear, whatever happens, remember that some things matter more than others. Some people matter more than anything.”

The silence on the other end stretched until she spoke, her voice soft with understanding that cut through him like a blade.

“I love you too,” she said simply. “Whatever you’re facing, we’ll figure it out together.”

After they disconnected, Sebastian sat alone in his office, surrounded by evidence he couldn’t use and facing a choice that would define the rest of his life.

He thought of his father, who’d built this company through calculated moves and strategic thinking. He thought of Will Donovan, who’d died protecting what he loved. He thought of Tessa, who fought every day to preserve something beautiful in a world that preferred profitable.

Some battles can’t be won with strategy alone. Sometimes you have to choose what you’re willing to lose for what you can’t live without.

But as Sebastian prepared for the board meeting, he knew the cruelest irony of all: Victor was right. If Sebastian chose principle over position, Victor would simply destroy Tessa’s pub anyway. The only difference would be that Sebastian would lose everything and still fail to protect what mattered most.

Unless...

Sebastian opened his laptop and began typing, not a resignation letter, but a detailed memo documenting every suspicious transaction, every questionable authorization, every shell company connection he’d discovered. He couldn’t prove Victor’s crimes yet, but he could create a record. Plant seeds of doubt. Force questions that Victor would eventually have to answer.

The investigation will continue. The truth will surface. But today, I have to choose between certain defeat and the chance to fight another day.

In six hours, Sebastian would walk into that boardroom and make the hardest decision of his life. Either way, someone he loved was going to get hurt.

But if he was going to destroy Tessa’s dream to save his position, he was damn well going to use that position to eventually destroy the man who’d forced him to make this choice.