Chapter 6

The meeting took place on Monday morning, in a conference room at Ashford Dynamics headquarters.

Sylvie hadn't been there before. She'd seen the building from the outside — a glass tower in the financial district, the Ashford name emblazoned across the top in gold letters. It looked like the kind of place that didn't know it was bleeding.

Iris was beside her, sharp in a black suit, a slim folder under her arm. They waited in the marble lobby for ten minutes before being escorted up.

The conference room on the twenty-eighth floor had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A long polished table, fifteen chairs, a view that told you exactly who this company thought it was. Marguerite Ashford sat at the head, still in her emerald satin, her pearls catching the morning light. Her face was calm, composed. Like she was preparing to negotiate with a vendor rather than the woman she had humiliated three days ago.

The brothers were there too. Marcus, the pharmaceutical division. Thomas, the logistics platform. Their wives were not. This was a business meeting, and business was not for wives.

Daniel was there, at the far end of the table. He looked pale, hollowed out, his honey hair unwashed. He didn't meet her eyes.

"Ms. Marchetti," Marguerite said, her voice smooth as cream. "I'm glad you agreed to meet. I'm sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Sylvie sat down across from her. Iris sat beside her, the folder closed on the table.

"Mrs. Ashford," she said. "I want to be clear about why I'm here. I served termination notices on your company at nine a.m. on Sunday. I have the legal right to withdraw them, but I won't do that for free."