Page 88 of The Innovator

“I’ll do whatever I can to stop you from trying to sabotage LaRue—yourheritage.” Mom retorted.

“I’m the new CEO. You can’t stop me.” She looked at Mom and then me. The gleam in her eyes wavered between amusement, challenge, and suspicion.

Amused that anyone dared speak to her in that tone when she held the power to the company—which meant she thought she could cause trouble for me. If she could, she would’ve fired me already, but she couldn’t.

“I certainly can,” I said calmly. “I’m the heir to this company. You’re just interim CEO until the board meeting is over.”

She glared at me, and I sensed the wall of unspoken truth emerge. It had barbed wires that stabbed into my flesh. “You’re still the same brat you were when you were little. Never does what she’s told.”

“How dare you speak about my daughter that way?” Mom asked, her patience thinning.

“Words don’t hurt me, Mom. Aunt Estelle has an evil streak that’s unraveling for the world to see.” I glared at her. “It’s natural to retaliate when someone bullies my family and me, right, Aunt Estelle?”

I was no longer a child full of fear. I was now an adult who could see the hatred in my aunt’s eyes. She was on a mission to destroy the LaRue legacy. Why did she hate us so much?

“How much money is the Fontaine and Chalamet Group offering you for LaRue?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I couldn’t hold back my suspicion any longer. “It makes sense. They must have offered you an irresistible deal. Money corrupts people just like the House of Gucci. They had family drama that dealt with betrayal and murder. Sometimes I wonder if House of LaRue is just like them.”

I sensed my words drop like a pin to the floor, bouncing several times before lying still. The silence throbbed in the room as Aunt Estelle tilted her head at us. What was she thinking? Did my words insinuate her fear? Or was she too cold to even feel it?

A burst of laughter erupted from my aunt. “What is wrong with you? Are you accusing me of something? Are youthreateningme?”

“Aunt Estelle, I wouldn’t dare threaten you,” I said in my most innocent voice. “I’m just a girl terrified she can’t protect her father’s legacy. And fear is mighty powerful.”

A smile curved onto her lips. “I should have kept you locked in that closet back then. The little brat has grown into a big one.”

“Right, just a little brat trying to catch up to you.” Anger rose in my gut, but I tried my best not to show it.

I’d always considered myself a nice person, but at this moment, a monster formed in me. It had six arms with claws thrumming for violence, three eyes that shot out laser beams, and a giant mouth with rows of sharp teeth that could rip off her head in one swipe. The desire to reach across the table to kill her pulsed in me. But if I went to prison for murder, my mom would be devastated and alone, and my dad wouldn’t get the justice he deserved. So I prayed to God to give me strength and patience.

Mom turned to me. “Did she lock you in a closet? When did this happen?”

Underneath the table, I placed a hand on my mom’s thigh, comforting her. “Tell you later. Just know that I survived and I’m stronger and wiser because of it.” I smiled at my aunt. “Thank you for that.”

Survival meant seeing the positive in the negative. I had transformed from that event.

“So, are we done here? You obviously didn’t come for an update on trench coats or new vendors.”

“We’re here for everything that has to do with LaRue. I want to make sure you’re doing your job.” I got out of my seat so I could walk around the room. “Did you know that there’s a rumor Dad’s plane crash wasn’t an accident?”

I paused in my steps, watching her facial expression. No emotion, but her eyes revealed what her impassive expression tried to hide—fear. She was actually capable of that emotion.

“Is that right? Did you hear about that in the gossip rag that’s always looking for its next headline? Why are you wasting time listening to hearsay? We have a company to save.”

“I agree. We have to save LaRue. But I wonder if its demise was intentional.” I shrugged and leaned against the conference table. “I want to know if my dad’s death was an accident or murder. As his sister, I assumed you’d care and want to know too.”

“Do I look like I have time for rumors? The next headline could be about me being a mistress to some prince in another country with triplets no one knew about.”

“I’d believe that,” I said and saw my mom smile.

Aunt Estelle’s lips thinned, not finding the humor in my statement.

“Well, if that’s all. I need to get going.” She glanced at her watch and resumed typing on her computer.

“I’ve passed this information to the authorities. I’ll let you know when they find something. If Dad’s death was a murder, I’m sure the Fontaine and Chalamet Group won’t be interested in acquiring a tainted company. Like you said, they’re smart investors. A company that comes with bloody baggage isn’t a wise investment at all. Wouldn’t you agree?”

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