The Wheelchair at the Altar Part 2

My father’s trial was set for six months later.

Vanessa took a plea deal. In exchange for testifying against our father, she received a reduced sentence — two years of probation and a substantial fine. She was also banned from ever holding an executive position in any public company again.

On the day she signed the deal, she asked to see me one last time.

We met in a small conference room at Margaret’s office. Adrian waited outside.

Vanessa looked thinner. The arrogance she once carried so easily was gone.

“I’m sorry,” she said as soon as I sat down. “I know it doesn’t mean much now, but… I really am sorry.”

I studied her face.

“Why did you do it?” I asked. “Why did you steal my work? Why did you help them push me out?”

Vanessa looked down at her hands.

“Because I was scared,” she admitted. “Dad always made it clear that only one of us could be important. And it was never going to be you. So I did whatever I had to do to stay on his good side.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“I thought if I was useful enough, he would finally see me as more than just… his second choice.”

I felt something close to pity, but it was mixed with exhaustion.

“You didn’t have to destroy me to survive him, Vanessa,” I said quietly. “You could have chosen differently.”

“I know that now,” she whispered.

She looked up at me.

“What are you going to do with the company?”

“I’m not keeping it,” I said. “I’m restructuring it, restoring the pension fund, and then I’m selling my shares to people who will run it ethically. I don’t want anything that was built on lies.”

Vanessa nodded slowly.

For the first time, she looked genuinely small.

“I don’t know who I am without all of this,” she said.

I stood up.