Chapter 12 - THE CROWN I NEVER AGREED TO WEAR
Penelope laughed for thirty seconds.
Nobody joined her.
“You’re serious?”
Larkin turned the tablet toward her.
There it was.
A succession agreement created eighteen months earlier.
If Larkin and Thomas became legally incapacitated, Penelope Woods would receive temporary authority over a group of holding companies controlling substantial legitimate assets.
Not the criminal crews.
The money.
The buildings.
The companies.
The infrastructure.
Penelope stopped laughing.
“Who signed this?”
Seven names.
Most of them people she had seen at the gala.
“Why me?”
Eleanor looked disturbed.
“This wasn’t mine.”
Thomas swore.
Larkin read the clauses.
Then understood.
“Marcus.”
Penelope looked at him.
“He wanted me in charge?”
“Temporarily.”
“Why?”
“Because you would look legitimate.”
Thomas added:
“And controllable.”
Penelope’s expression hardened.
Marcus planned to remove the cousins, install an apparently harmless accountant over the corporate structure, then control her through Eleanor.
Penelope had not been chosen because she was powerful.
She had been chosen because Marcus assumed she was weak.
That felt familiar.
Painfully familiar.
She looked at the agreement.
“Can I refuse?”
Larkin nodded.
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful.”
Thomas looked shocked.
“You’re refusing control of billions in assets?”
“Some of those assets are contaminated.”
“That is the most accountant answer imaginable.”
Penelope signed nothing.
Instead, attorneys separated legitimate companies from entities implicated in crimes.
Investigators seized records where appropriate.
Independent administrators stepped in.
Larkin voluntarily suspended himself from several positions during the review.
Thomas complained constantly and cooperated anyway.
Penelope did something simpler.
She resigned.
Larkin stared at the letter.
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You know that isn’t how resignation works.”
“I know.”
“Then why say no?”
“Instinct.”
That sounded familiar.
Penelope smiled.
“I can’t work for you anymore.”
His face changed.
“Because of what I did?”
“Partly.”
“Penelope—”
“I spent three years trying to disappear in your office. Then forty-eight hours finding out everyone had a plan for me.”
She pushed the letter forward.
“I need to make one for myself.”
Larkin looked at the page.
“What will you do?”
“I’m a forensic accountant.”
“You’re a very good one.”
“I know.”
He almost smiled.
That mattered.
Three weeks later, Penelope accepted a position with an independent financial investigations firm working on complex corporate fraud cases.
Her first client?
The court-appointed restructuring team reviewing several Steves companies.
Thomas called it betrayal.
Penelope called it billable hours.
Eleanor rented an apartment in Queens.
They began having breakfast every Sunday.
Some breakfasts ended in tears.
Some in silence.
One ended in an argument about whether Penelope’s new haircut made her look “too severe.”
That one felt almost normal.
Then something unexpected happened.
Penelope received a letter from her student-loan servicer.
Her remaining balance had been paid.
All $74,218.
She called immediately.
“Who paid it?”
The representative gave the sender.
Larkin Steves.
Penelope marched into his temporary office forty minutes later.
“Are you insane?”
He looked up.
“Frequently.”
“You paid my loans.”
“You carried evidence for three years because of a plan my family helped create.”
“So?”
“I owed you.”
“No.”
She placed a check on his desk.
The amount was $74,218.
His eyebrow rose.
“You have that much cash?”
“No.”
“Then what is this?”
“A promise that I will repay every cent.”
“Penelope.”
“I am not becoming another woman whose life you manage because you care about her.”
The room went silent.
Larkin looked at her.
Then smiled slowly.
“Because I care about you?”
She realized what she had said.
“Don’t.”
“Too late.”
She turned toward the door.
He called after her.
“Dinner.”
She stopped.
“That sounded like an order.”
“Would you have dinner with me?”
She looked back.
“Better.”
“Tonight?”
“No.”
His expression fell.
“Friday.”
Then she left.
Behind her, Thomas walked into the office and said loudly:
“She made you ask twice?”
Larkin replied:
May you like
“Get out.”
For the first time, Penelope smiled all the way to the elevator.
