Page 232 of Plaything

I stood up and started walking to the conference room again. Niko and Aiden gave me a soft, proud nod, and I smiled.

“Can you also get me the HR representative responsible for your benefits?” I requested. “And a copy of the employee handbook, if it’s not too much trouble?”

Vanessa grinned and chuckled once. “It’s not any trouble at all. Whatever you need, just let me know!” She enthused.

Things were twisted around here, and if I were the owner, I wouldn’t stand for that. Considering the company’s weekly profit, three measly weeks of paid leave after having a baby was disrespectful at best. Charles had clearly signed off on the cheapest legal option he could to make himself a few extra dollars. That was changing today.

Vanessa opened the glass door to the large conference room where a dozen men in black suits sat at a large table. I was a bit evil-ish and asked Rita not to advise them on what the meeting was for. It was Aiden’s idea—he had a hunch that they wouldn’t show up or send a representative in their place if they knew what was coming. I wasn’t going to give them that courtesy.

Also, seeing as Rita’s assistant left my name off the invite list, none of them knew I was the one who requested the meeting in the first place. This was just an extra gift to my ego before I ruined their day (and probably the next several years as their profits plummet).

Seeing the apprehensive looks and sudden fidgeting legs under the table, I knew they knew exactly why I was there. “Miss Whitlock, do you need me to stay and take notes?” Vanessa asked in a hushed tone, sensing the tension in the room.

“No, this’ll be quick,” I smiled as she left the room and closed the door behind her.

“Oh shit,” I heard one of the men mumble to himself as he closed his eyes, a deep look of regret on his face.

I stood at the head of the table with no intention of sitting down. Vincent took a seat to my left, leaning back in his chair—looking ready for the best show of his life as he smirked cruelly at the men. I should’ve gotten him popcorn with how giddy he seemed. My guys were standing behind me, near the back wall, probably shooting daggers at the men.

Keeping my tone confident and my gaze firm, I addressed the room. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know why they’re here?” I asked while scanning the room.

Five men around Vincent’s age hesitated before raising their hands, seeming confused at the tension in the room radiating from the older men. It was obvious that they were innocent and had no part in what happened to me as a kid. They were newer partners who had no business being terminated.

“You can go,” I gestured to the door.

One of the younger men sat back in his chair, holding it down. “I’d prefer to stay. What is this meeting for?” He asked.

I glanced down at the folder before addressing him again. “This folder is full of termination of partnership forms that’ll be handed out and signed by everyone in this room. Do you still want to stay?”

He and the others were quick to stand. “No, I don’t think my attendance is necessary today,” he joked. He reached out to shake my hand. “I’m sure we’ll meet again under different circumstances,” he said before being the first out of the room. The others said a quick ‘I look forward to working with you’ and ‘glad to meet you’ before they left.

The remaining men didn’t even try to plead innocence as they sat in shame. They had to go home to their wives and children and lie about why they’d lost their most profitable partner today. Whitlock Enterprises was the cash cow, and they all knew it.

“Is there any deal or negotiation you’d accept to keep... even a fraction of our partnership?” One of the men proposed, his lips tight as if ashamed to ask.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I felt my stomach twist with disgust. The same waves of confidence I felt when I went into Charles’ office to threaten him settled in my throat.

“Yes,” I answered in a dull tone. Someone, probably Aiden, shifted behind me at my surprising response. “I want you to write out a statement outlining what you did. Every detail. Every instance. And what Charles offered you in return,” I spat. “Then take it to the police.”

I’d thought about it several times, and them pleading guilty was the only way to truly turn them in. I had no proof other than my memories, which were still fuzzy.

Vincent looked confused as he watched me but didn’t question it. He got the jist.

The man started to shake his head, made eye contact with me, then fully committed to saying no. “I’ll take the paperwork,” he gestured to the folder quietly.

Shocker. “The same goes for the rest of you,” I offered, taking out the papers and plopping them in the middle of the table for them to grab and sign.

Like kids reaching into a bowl of candy, the paperwork was snatched up by all—except one. He was much older than the rest, in his seventies. “What percentage of the partnership would remain?” he asked, not looking up from the table.

My heart pounded in my chest as shock flooded my nerves. I didn’t think anyone would even consider taking the deal. It was prison time—a lot of it. More than that, his admittance would be on his permanent record for anyone to see. If he turned himself in at his age, he wouldn’t come back out.

“What’s your name?” Niko stepped forward.

“Richard Howard,” the man answered, still not looking up.

“You own H&H?” Niko quickly recalled. He’d looked over all the paperwork, including who my business partners were, their companies, and how much we mutually benefited from said partnership.

Richard nodded.

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