The next week I moved quietly.
My tech counsel reviewed every clause Logan might try to manipulate. My operations lead reverified access permissions across shared environments. My security team pulled activity logs. Rachel began curating a clean packet of partnership documents that could, if needed, establish our role in five minutes flat to anyone whose money was on the line.
At the same time, I made a handful of phone calls to people in venture capital I trusted. Not to smear Logan. I didn’t need to. I simply gave them accurate information about who had built the infrastructure under the product they were considering funding.
In business, truth told at the right moment has a way of sounding like strategy.
Then came something I wasn’t expecting.
Ivy texted.
Can we talk? Mom and Dad’s patio tomorrow? No drama.
I almost ignored it. Then I thought about the PDF. Table 17. The years. The shrugging carelessness that had finally calcified into something cruel.
