Chapter 7 - THE WAITRESS WITH THE DECIDING VOTE
Twenty-four hours earlier, I couldn't convince my landlord to give me one more week.
Now nine powerful people were waiting for me to decide control of a corporate empire.
Life has a cruel sense of humor.
Pierce protested immediately.
“This is absurd. She has no standing.”
I translated the clause again.
Slowly.
Exactly.
No embellishment.
The agreement didn't give me ownership.
It gave Ilona's lawful descendant one narrow authority:
When authenticity of an emergency transfer was disputed, the custodian's heir could validate or reject the document using the original seal.
Pierce turned toward Tomas.
“You said this clause was obsolete.”
There it was.
Tomas had known.
Viktor heard it too.
His face hardened.
Tomas recovered quickly.
“I gave a legal interpretation.”
“You gave him my empire,” Viktor said.
Nobody raised their voice.
Nobody needed to.
Tomas loosened his tie.
For the first time, he looked less like an expensive Manhattan attorney and more like the angry teenager in Grandma's photograph.
I pressed the real seal into soft verification wax.
Seven points appeared above the K.
Pierce's document showed five.
The council suspended the vote.
Viktor retained control.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, Tomas looked directly at me.
“You think Ilona was protecting the Kovacs family?”
He laughed.
“You have no idea what she was protecting you from.”
Viktor stepped between us.
“Enough.”
Tomas was escorted out pending an internal investigation.
Pierce left through another door, already calling attorneys.
I stared at Grandma's notebook.
One page had been folded over.
I hadn't noticed before.
Inside was a bank account number and a name.
Evelyn Bennett.
My mother.
Beside it Grandma had written:
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, EVELYN MUST NEVER ACCEPT MONEY FROM ANDOR.
I looked at Viktor.
“My mother knew about this?”
He didn't answer.
That frightened me.
“Viktor.”
His eyes dropped to the name.
“Yes.”
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“How?”
May you like
He looked like a man deciding whether the truth would destroy something.
“Because your mother called me six months before she died.”
