Chapter 173
Wesley
"Lance went to that school personally. Sat in the headmaster's office for four hours. Four hours, Wesley. Negotiating. Bargaining. He finally signed a donation contract worth more than your tuition—money he couldn't afford at the time because the company was barely solvent."
He paused, savoring my reaction.
"And me? I just delivered the letter saying you could stay. Then I told you it was Lance who wanted you expelled. That he thought you were an embarrassment. That I was the only one who believed in you."
Ice spread through my chest.
No.
"Or how about your eighteenth birthday?" Felix continued, pacing like a predator circling prey. "You remember being so upset that Lance didn't show up? Called him cold. Heartless. Said he didn't care about you?"
I did remember. I'd spent that entire night drunk and angry, convinced Lance had abandoned me on the one day I'd actually wanted him there.
"He was outside." Felix's smile widened. "The entire night. Sitting in his car with a gift he'd spent weeks choosing. Waiting for the right moment to come in." He laughed. "But I went out there first. Told him you were inside, drunk, screaming about how much you hated him. Begging him to leave you alone. To stay away forever."
My hands were shaking. I tried to hide it, tried to keep my face neutral, but inside—
Inside, everything was falling apart.
"And you know what Lance did?" Felix leaned in close. "He believed me. Drove away. Left the gift with me—asked me to give it to you when you were sober enough to accept it." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I threw it in the trash."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't process. Years of resentment, of anger, of feeling abandoned—all of it built on lies. On Felix's careful, deliberate manipulation.
"I could go on," Felix said, straightening. "Every time Lance tried to reach you—every birthday, every holiday, every moment he wanted to be there for you—I made sure you thought he didn't care. Made sure you saw him as the villain." His smile was vicious. "And you believed every word. Every single lie."
He started pacing again, and I realized he was enjoying this. Relishing the chance to reveal his own cleverness. To show me how thoroughly he'd played me.
"But the biggest lie?" He stopped, turned to face me fully. "The one you hate him for most?"
I already knew what he was going to say. Could feel it coming like a knife aimed at my heart.
"You think Lance stole your parents' inheritance. Froze your trust fund out of spite. Kept you dependent and poor while he lived in luxury." Felix's eyes gleamed. "Want to know the truth?"
"Stop," I heard myself say. But my voice was weak. Hollow.
"When your parents died, the company was drowning in debt. Millions in the red. Creditors circling like sharks." Felix's voice was almost gentle now. Mocking in its sympathy. "If Lance hadn't taken control—if he hadn't absorbed those shares, taken on that debt, fought to save Lawson Capital—your 'inheritance' would have been worth nothing. Less than nothing."
He moved closer, and I couldn't look away.
"He saved the company, Wesley. Turned it around. Grew it from bankruptcy to a billion-dollar empire." A pause. "And now? Now those shares—the ones you think he stole?—they're worth five hundred million dollars. Money that only exists because Lance sacrificed everything to build it."
The words hit like physical blows. Each one reopening old wounds. Reshaping my entire understanding of the past decade.
Lance hadn't stolen from me. He'd saved what my parents left behind. Built it into something valuable. Something real.
And I'd hated him for it. Resented him. Believed every lie Felix fed me.
My fists were clenched so tight my nails were cutting into my palms. But I couldn't let Felix see. Couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this was destroying me.
So I kept my face blank. Neutral. Like I was listening to a weather report instead of having my entire world ripped apart.
"Fascinating story," I said, and my voice came out flat. Bored. "Is there a point to this? Or are you just reliving your greatest hits?" I shifted against the ropes, letting impatience bleed into my tone. "Now can we move on? You want those assets, don't you? So let me go. Let me do what you brought me here to do."
Felix's smile faltered slightly. He'd expected more of a reaction. More pain. More visible collapse.
Good.
He studied me for a long moment, eyes narrowing. Then something shifted in his expression—almost like approval.
"You know what? You're right." He moved toward me, reaching for the rope binding my wrists. "Time to let you get to work."
Relief started to flood through me—but then he stopped. Hand hovering just inches from the knots.
"Actually..." Felix straightened, pulling back. "Before I let you walk out of here, there's one thing we need to confirm."
My stomach dropped.
He pulled out his phone. Held it up between us.