I sat down.
He glanced at Dad.
“Does he have to be here?”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
Brandon sighed.
Then leaned forward.
“I never meant for things to get this far.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“The company was growing. I thought the consulting arrangement could help both of us.”
“Both of us?”
He nodded.
“You were always busy. I wanted to contribute.”
I stared at him.
“So you used a company connected to Savannah to receive payments from my business?”
His face tightened.
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“Then make it simple.”
He looked down.
“I made mistakes.”
Dad spoke for the first time.
“Mistakes have explanations. Financial transactions have records.”
Brandon’s jaw tightened.
“I didn’t come here to be interrogated.”
Dad leaned back.
“Then you chose an unfortunate audience.”
My attorney cleared her throat and redirected the discussion to the proposed civil settlement.
Brandon wanted concessions.
He wanted the company to withdraw certain claims in exchange for partial repayment.
Our attorney explained that any agreement would depend on documented disclosures and could not control independent action by authorities.
I listened.
Then finally asked Brandon something that had haunted me since the courthouse.
“Why did you try to buy Savannah that necklace?”
He looked startled.
“What?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars. With my corporate card.”
He stared at the table.
“She wanted it.”
I waited.
He continued.
“I thought the card would still work.”
The simplicity of the answer was devastating.
He hadn’t even considered whether he had a right to use it.
He wanted something.
So he expected my company to pay.
I looked at the man I’d once loved.
And suddenly, I understood.
He hadn’t believed my success belonged to me.
He’d believed proximity gave him ownership.
And when the marriage ended, he still expected access.
I stood.
“There’s nothing more I need to hear.”
Brandon looked up.
“Elena, please.”
I shook my head.
“You had nine years to treat me like a partner.”
Then I walked out.
The next several months were difficult.
I had to explain the investigation to senior managers.
Review internal controls.
Replace portions of our vendor approval system.
And reassure employees that the company would survive.
We introduced stronger financial oversight.
Independent verification for new suppliers.
Multiple approvals for large transfers.
Regular audits.
And clearer boundaries between personal relationships and company authority.
Some employees felt embarrassed that they’d trusted Brandon’s recommendations.
I refused to blame people who’d been deliberately misled.
Instead, we focused on fixing the weaknesses that had allowed the transactions to happen.
Rossi Design Group survived.
Our projects continued.
Clients stayed.
And forty employees kept their jobs.
One Friday afternoon, Dad visited my office.
I was reviewing plans for a luxury hotel renovation.
He stood beside the window overlooking the Chicago River.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
I thought about the question.
Then answered honestly.
“Better.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
I smiled.
“You saved my company.”
Dad shook his head.
“No, Elena.”
He looked around the office.
“You built this company. You listened when someone warned you there might be a problem. Then you did the work to protect it.”
I laughed softly.
“You make it sound simple.”
“It wasn’t.”
