Chapter 67 Harringtons Never Fight Fair
The kitchen was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator, and Sarah sat across from Mark while the steam rose from their mugs, and they didn't talk about the Harrington Group or the Vane estate for a long time, they just sat in the dim light and breathed.
Mark looked at his hands, which were still stained with the dust from the road where Joseph’s car had flipped, and he leaned back in the wooden chair, his body finally losing the tension that had been there since the day the scandals started.
"The doctors said he has a long road ahead of him, Mom, they mentioned something about a hip replacement and months of physical therapy, and he won't be in any state to testify for the Vanes or anyone else for a while," Mark said, and his voice was flat, lacking the anger that had been there for weeks.
"I am sorry you had to be the one to find him, Mark, but I am glad he is stable, and I hope he uses the time to think about why he did what he did," Sarah replied, and she reached across the table to squeeze his hand, her grip firm and steady.
"I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, mostly about how I’ve been acting like a kid even though I’m twenty-two and have my own life to worry about," Mark said, looking up at her with a look of genuine regret.
"I was so caught up in the hurt of you and Alex that I didn't see how much pressure you were under, and I hated him for taking you away from the life I was used to, but I see now that nobody took you anywhere, you’re just living your life."
"I never wanted to hurt you, Mark, and I never wanted to lose our friendship, because you are the most important person in the world to me," she told him, and the sincerity in her voice made Mark nod slowly.
"I know that now, and I think I'm over the shock of it, I just want you to be happy and I want this Harrington war to end so you can go back to being Sarah Hayes, the designer, and not Sarah Hayes, the headline," Mark said, and he stood up to rinse his mug in the sink, the sound of the water filling the small room.
The sound of a car door closing in the driveway broke the moment, and they both went still until they heard the heavy, familiar sound of boots on the porch steps. The door opened and Alex walked in, and he didn't look like the Executive Vice President anymore, he was wearing a rumpled shirt and his hair was a mess, and he stopped in the doorway when he saw Mark sitting at the table.
"Alex, you’re back, did the audit go through?" Sarah asked, standing up and walking toward him, her eyes searching his face for the result of the fight at the Vane estate.
"Helena is out, the board saw the demolition plans and the London investors pulled their funding within the hour, and my mother signed the papers to remove Helena from the Veridian project permanently," Alex said, and his voice was exhausted, but there was a spark of the old Alex in his eyes.
"So the neighborhood is safe?" Mark asked, standing up and looking at his former best friend for the first time without a glare.
"The neighborhood is safe, and the liens have been dissolved, Sarah, your house belongs to you again, and no one is going to bulldoze a single brick," Alex said, and he looked at Mark, his expression cautious and uncertain.
"I heard about Joseph, I’m sorry, Mark, I know we aren't on good terms, but I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
"He’s alive, that’s all that matters right now," Mark said, and he took a deep breath before stepping toward Alex.
"And thanks for stopping the demolition, my mom worked too hard for this place to let a Harrington garage sit on top of it."
"I did it for her, but I also did it because it was the right thing to do," Alex said, and he reached out a hand, a hesitant gesture that Mark met with a firm, quick shake.
"We still have a lot to talk about, Alex, but for tonight, let's just say we’re even," Mark told him, and he looked at his mother.
"I'm going to head to the hospital to check in one last time, then I’m going home to sleep for twelve hours."
"Be careful on the road, Mark, and call me when you get there," Sarah said, and she watched her son walk out the door, feeling a sense of peace that she hadn't felt in months.
Once the door closed, Alex sat down at the table and buried his face in his hands. Sarah stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the knots in his muscles.
"It’s over, Alex, you won," she whispered.
"I didn't win, I just stopped us from losing everything, and my father is still sitting in that hospital bed planning his next move," Alex said, looking up at her with a look of deep, jagged worry.
"He didn't fight the audit, Sarah, he let Helena take the fall because he knew I’d have to use every bit of my Vane leverage to do it, and now he knows exactly how much power I have left."
"He can't touch the firm now, the board is on your side," Sarah argued.
"The board is on the side of the person who makes them the most money, and right now, that’s still him," Alex said, and he pulled a small, yellow slip of paper out of his pocket.
"He sent this to me through his personal lawyer ten minutes before I left the estate, it’s a notification of a new lawsuit, Sarah, but it isn't from the Vanes or the Harringtons."
"Then who is it from?" she asked, her heart starting to pound again.
"It’s a claim from the city council regarding the original zoning of your office building, they’re claiming that the permits you signed twenty years ago were fraudulent, and they’re moving to seize the property for a municipal expansion," Alex said, and he looked at her with a look of pure, cold dread.
"My father didn't go after your house this time, he went after your history, and he’s using a local politician he’s been funding for a decade to do the dirty work."
Sarah looked at the paper and saw the name of the councilman, a man she had met dozens of times at community events, and she realized that Richard was never going to stop until he had stripped her of every single thing she had ever built.
"He wants me to walk away from you, Alex, that is the only thing that will make him stop," Sarah said, her voice steady and full of a hard, cold clarity.
"I won't let you do that," Alex snapped, his hand tightening on the table.
"It’s not your choice anymore, because if I stay, he destroys things, and if I leave, he wins," she told him, and she looked at the kitchen she had just reclaimed. She was under threat again.