Chapter 17 - Andrew Weston’s Price
Emma met Andrew in a private conference room at Albany International Airport.
No luxury hotel.
No Manhattan skyscraper.
No audience.
Thomas searched Andrew before allowing him inside.
He carried nothing but an old phone and a folded envelope.
Emma had prepared herself to feel something when she saw him.
Rage.
Triumph.
Pain.
Instead she felt strangely detached.
Andrew looked like somebody she used to know.
His hands were rough from warehouse work.
A cheap watch replaced the platinum timepiece he once wore.
There were permanent lines around his mouth.
“Emma.”
“Andrew.”
His eyes lingered on her face.
“You look…”
“Don’t.”
He nodded.
They sat opposite one another.
“Show me what Mercer gave you.”
Andrew pushed the envelope across the table.
Inside were photographs of Arthur.
More than thirty.
Emma kept her expression controlled.
But inside she was screaming.
“When?”
“He contacted me three weeks ago.”
“And you waited until now?”
“I thought it was about you.”
“That excuses it?”
“No.”
Emma stared at him.
Andrew looked down.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“He offered to clear my debts.”
“You created them.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know as though understanding something years late deserves a medal.”
His jaw tightened.
For a second she saw the old Andrew.
Then it disappeared.
“I deserved that.”
Emma almost laughed.
“Five million dollars,” she said. “That’s your price?”
“It used to be less.”
She looked at him.
He did not look away.
That was the first honest thing between them.
Andrew explained Mercer’s plan.
Gideon needed testimony that Emma had secretly accessed Weston Capital records before the divorce.
If accepted, Mercer could argue Aegis Sovereign’s acquisition of Weston assets had been based on insider information and fraudulent interference.
He did not need to win permanently.
He only needed an emergency injunction.
Freeze Emma’s assets.
Destabilize Vance Global.
Force a settlement.
“Did you agree?”
Andrew hesitated.
“Yes.”
Thomas shifted beside the wall.
Emma remained still.
“You signed?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here?”
Andrew removed his phone.
“Because yesterday Mercer’s attorney sent me preparation materials.”
He opened an encrypted folder.
There were scripts.
Suggested answers.
Fabricated dates.
Fake meeting logs.
Then one document that made Emma’s breath catch.
A proposed custody petition.
ANDREW WESTON v. EMMA VANCE.
“They want you to challenge the termination order.”
Andrew nodded.
“They said if I cooperated, their lawyers would argue that the original notices were defective.”
“You failed to respond.”
“I know.”
“You abandoned every proceeding.”
“I know.”
“You never met Arthur.”
Andrew closed his eyes briefly.
“I know.”
Emma leaned back.
“Then do it.”
Andrew looked up.
“What?”
“File.”
Thomas stared at her.
“Emma.”
She ignored him.
“File your petition. Testify for Mercer.”
Andrew looked genuinely confused.
“You want me to lie?”
“I want you to do exactly what Gideon expects.”
Understanding slowly entered Andrew’s eyes.
“You want me inside.”
“I want evidence.”
“That could send me to prison.”
“Yes.”
He laughed without humor.
“Still ruthless.”
“No.”
Emma leaned forward.
“Ruthless would be letting you take the five million and then destroying you afterward.”
“So what is this?”
“A choice.”
Emma slid the envelope back.
“For the first time in your life, nobody is buying your decision.”
Andrew studied her.
“What do I get?”
“Nothing.”
“My debts?”
“No.”
“My job?”
“No.”
“A chance to meet Arthur?”
Emma’s eyes became steel.
“No.”
He flinched.
“Then why would I do it?”
“Because maybe you’re tired of being exactly the man everyone knows you are.”
The room went silent.
Andrew stared at the photographs.
Finally he picked them up.
“When do you need my answer?”
“You already gave it.”
He frowned.
Emma pointed toward his phone.
“You came here.”
Andrew stared at her for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
“Mercer’s people are meeting me Thursday.”
Thomas moved forward.
“We wire you.”
Andrew looked at him.
“I always hated you.”
Thomas smiled faintly.
“The feeling has survived your bankruptcy.”
Emma almost smiled.
At the door Andrew stopped.
“Emma.”
She looked up.
“I watched Arthur’s birthday video.”
Her expression changed.
“I didn’t send you one.”
“No.”
His shame said the rest.
He had found it online through photographs posted by guests.
“He looks happy.”
“He is.”
Andrew swallowed.
“Good.”
Then he left.
Thomas waited until the door closed.
“You trust him?”
“No.”
“Then this is dangerous.”
Emma collected the surveillance photographs of her son.
“I trust one thing.”
“What?”
“Andrew spent his entire life wanting powerful men to respect him.”
She looked toward the door.
“Gideon thinks that weakness still belongs to him.”
“And if it does?”
May you like
Emma slid Arthur’s photograph into her bag.
“Then Andrew Weston will discover there is still one thing left for him to lose.”
