CHAPTER 8: Grant Finds No Door Left Open

The first officer entered with a badge held low and visible.
No one shouted. No one ran.
Luxury rooms make disgrace look quieter, but they do not make it smaller.
Grant stepped back until he bumped the edge of the table.
Marissa began speaking to no one in particular about misunderstandings, delegated approvals, and compliance language she had memorized for moments exactly like this.
The chairman would not meet her eyes.
Grant looked at Grace as the officer asked him to remain where he was.
“Tell them,” he said. “Tell them this is between us.”
Grace almost felt sorry for him then.
Not because he deserved it.
Because even now, he believed the world should shrink itself around his comfort.
Arthur stood beside her, close enough to protect, far enough to let her choose.
Grace looked at the glass doors, the city beyond them, the red reflection fading from the polished floor.
“No,” she said.
Grant’s eyes flickered.
“No what?”
“No more making your consequences my responsibility.”
The officer took one careful step closer.
This time, the board watched.
Grace remembered every apology he had turned into a negotiation.
Tonight, she refused to bargain for peace with a man who only wanted silence.