Chapter 9 - THE STOLEN LEGACY
Grant looked like a man who had been struck by lightning,
his body rigid,
his eyes darting around the room as if searching for a hidden exit.
"You cannot take the Chelsea apartment,
Evelyn.
My name is on the deed."
"With my money,"
I replied.
"And under New York state law,
that makes it a marital asset purchased with diverted funds.
It is already under a temporary receivership."
He shook his head,
a desperate laugh escaping his throat.
"You are insane.
You have ruined my life over a petty affair."
"An affair is petty,
Grant,"
I said,
stepping even closer to him.
"But what you did was not just an affair.
You stole something far more valuable than money,
or real estate."
His eyes widened,
a sudden realization hitting him.
He knew exactly what I was talking about.
"The patent,"
he whispered.
"Yes,
Grant,"
I said,
my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"My mother's proprietary logistics software.
The code she spent fifteen years developing,
the code that forms the foundation of our entire shipping empire."
He had tried to sell it to our primary competitor,
a logistics conglomerate based in Chicago.
He had spent the last six months negotiating a secret deal,
believing he could walk away with fifty million dollars and Sienna on his arm.
He thought the transfer of the intellectual property was complete.
"The buyers pulled out of the deal at four o'clock today,"
Madeleine said,
her voice ringing with satisfaction.
"After we served them with a cease-and-desist order,
along with evidence that the files they received were corrupted and tracked."
"You set me up,"
Grant growled,
taking a step toward me,
his face dark with fury.
"You let me take those files."
"You took them yourself,
Grant,"
May you like
I said.
"I simply made sure the files you stole were the ones that would lead the FBI directly to your door."
