Chapter 12 - The Ransom of IllusionsI did not have to wait forty-eight hours. Lily’s lawyer reached out to Julian exactly thirty-six hours later.
Julian, who still managed a significant portion of my financial portfolio, called me on a secure line.
"She wants a meeting," Julian said, his voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. "Her people requested a private suite at the Four Seasons in Manhattan. They are demanding fifty million dollars to kill the book and cancel the remaining press tour."
"Fifty million," I mused, looking out the window at the Blue Ridge mountains. "She always did overvalue herself."
"I can send a team of litigators to crush her, Amelia," Julian offered. "We can bury her in injunctions until she runs out of retainer money."
"No. I will meet her," I said.
"Amelia, that is a terrible idea."
"Julian, book the suite," I commanded smoothly. "And have a forensic accountant run a trace on the publishing house backing her book. Lily doesn't have the capital to launch a massive PR campaign on her own. Someone is funding this."
Two days later, I walked into the penthouse suite of the Four Seasons.
I did not wear the casual sweaters and denim of Blue Ridge. I wore a tailored, razor-sharp white suit. I wore my hair pulled back. I looked exactly like the billionaire she was accusing me of being. Gabriel had offered to come, but I asked him to stay behind. This was an echo of a life he did not belong to, and I was going to silence it myself.
Lily was already sitting in the suite, flanked by a sleazy, high-priced entertainment lawyer.
When I walked in, she didn't stand up. She tried to project an air of bored superiority, but I could see the frantic, desperate energy radiating from her.
"Amelia," Lily smiled, a brittle, fake expression. "I’m glad you decided to be reasonable."
I did not sit down. I stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at Central Park.
"I am not here to be reasonable, Lily," I said, my voice echoing with an absolute, terrifying calm. "I am here to tell you no."
Her lawyer stood up, puffing out his chest. "Ms. Cole, if you do not meet our financial demands, my client's memoir will be published next Tuesday. The streaming documentary drops next month. The damage to your production company and your personal brand will be catastrophic."
"My name is Amelia, not Ms. Cole," I corrected him without looking at him. I turned my gaze to Lily.
"You thought Ethan was a prize," I said softly. "You thought you were stealing a kingdom. But when you got inside, you realized the walls were crumbling and the king was empty. He discarded you the moment you became inconvenient, just like he discarded me. But unlike me, you didn't know how to build your own life. So now, you are trying to steal mine."
Lily’s face flushed an ugly, mottled red. The polished facade cracked.
"You ruined him!" she hissed, standing up. "He was obsessed with you even after we married! He couldn't stop talking about how he failed you! You left him with a broken ego, and I had to deal with the fallout! You owe me for those years, Amelia!"
"I owe you absolutely nothing," I said.
I walked over to the glass coffee table and dropped a single, manila folder onto it.
"My accountants traced the funding for your little media tour," I stated, watching the color drain from her face. "You didn't get an advance from a traditional publisher. Your book is being bankrolled by Victor."
Victor. Ethan’s old corporate rival. The man who had tried to execute a hostile takeover of Cole International years ago.
"Victor wants to devalue Cole International's stock," I explained, the pieces of the puzzle locking perfectly into place. "If he destroys my reputation, the market gets spooked, the stock dips, and he can buy a controlling interest for pennies on the dollar. You aren't an author, Lily. You are a corporate pawn."
"It doesn't matter who is paying me!" Lily shouted, her voice shrill with panic. "The public believes me! If you don't pay me fifty million, I will go on every network in this country and paint you as a monster!"
"Go ahead," I smiled. A cold, devastating smile.
"What?" her lawyer stammered.
"Go on television," I challenged her, my eyes boring into hers. "Tell them your story. Because the moment your book hits the shelves, my legal team will release the financial documents proving you were paid by Victor to manipulate the stock market. You will not be sued for defamation, Lily. You will be indicted by the SEC for federal wire fraud."
Lily stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the sofa. She realized, in that singular moment, that she had brought a knife to a nuclear war.
"You wouldn't," she whispered.
May you like
"I don't make threats, Lily," I said, turning toward the door. "I make promises. Publish the book. See what happens."
I walked out of the suite, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind me. I had just bet six billion dollars on a bluff, but I knew Lily. She was a survivor of convenience. She wouldn't risk federal prison for a man who had already abandoned her.
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