He read the documents slowly.
At one point, he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
Iris watched him.
She had expected anger.
Perhaps disbelief.
Instead, he looked profoundly tired.
When he finished, he placed the papers on the desk.
“Have the independent lawyers reviewed this?”
“Yes.”
“And the accountants?”
“The financial investigation is continuing.”
He nodded.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Richard looked at her.
“Are you all right?”
The question nearly undid her.
Iris had spent days functioning through schedules, evidence, and decisions.
She had not allowed herself much room to feel anything.
She looked down.
“I don’t know.”
Richard rose from his chair.
He crossed the room and sat beside her.
For a moment, he seemed uncertain what to do.
Then he took her hand.
Iris’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
He frowned.
“For what?”
“I brought him into the family.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
“I defended him.”
“You loved him.”
She looked at her father.
Richard’s expression was grave.
“Those are not the same thing.”
Iris lowered her head.
For several minutes, he sat beside her while she cried quietly.
Then she wiped her face.
She looked at him.
“There’s something else.”
Richard waited.
“The ownership proposal.”
He nodded.
“What about it?”
“I think he’s been trying to accelerate the transfer before the audit is complete.”
Richard’s expression hardened.
Iris continued.
“He wants forty per cent of the expansion subsidiary. And I think he’s been trying to make the wedding part of the pressure.”
Richard looked toward the folder.
For the first time that evening, his voice became cold.
“Then we make sure he doesn’t.”
The question of the forty per cent required careful handling.
Richard did not simply own a block of shares he could hand to Adrian at the altar.
The expansion subsidiary had its own governance arrangements, financing obligations, minority investors, and board approvals.
Adrian’s proposed equity acquisition depended on contractual conditions and formal corporate decisions.
A wedding could not lawfully substitute for those requirements.
But Adrian had been pressing for a transaction that would give him a large minority stake, and he had increasingly presented his forthcoming marriage as evidence that the family trusted him with long-term control.
Several directors were uncomfortable.
Richard convened a confidential meeting with independent counsel and the company’s audit committee.
Iris attended in her professional capacity but declared her personal conflict.
The evidence required proper investigation.
Adrian could not be summarily stripped of property he already lawfully owned simply because he had been unfaithful.
Nor could a privately negotiated marriage agreement automatically transfer every asset he possessed.
The lawyers explained this clearly.
Iris listened.
She had no intention of relying on a fantasy contract.
She wanted consequences that would survive scrutiny.
The company could investigate its own expenses.
It could suspend delegated signing authority where governance documents permitted.
It could review unvested incentives, assess whether agreements had been breached, and refer suspected misconduct to the relevant authorities.
It could protect its interests without pretending that anger was a substitute for legal process.
That suited Iris.
Her father asked what she wanted to do about the wedding.
She looked toward the windows.
For several seconds, she did not answer.
Then she said, “I haven’t decided.”
Naomi disagreed with almost everything about Iris’s next idea.
They were sitting in Iris’s apartment late one evening.
The wedding was six weeks away.
Adrian was in Berlin, supposedly meeting lenders.
Celia was travelling with him.
Iris had received a message from the wedding planner asking whether the couple wanted champagne served before or after the speeches.
She stared at it.
Then laughed.
Naomi looked up.
“What’s funny?”
“Champagne.”
“What about it?”
“Apparently this is the question requiring my immediate attention.”
Naomi set down her glass.
“Iris.”
She looked toward the window.
“I want them both there.”
