“Stay where you are.”
He stopped.
His gaze went to Camille.
Then the folders.
Then my face.
His voice dropped.
“We should speak privately.”
Camille answered.
“No.”
Grant ignored her.
“Elena, I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
“You hit me.”
“I know.”
“In front of your family.”
“I said I know.”
“And then your mother told everyone to start over.”
Meredith snapped, “This is not the place.”
I looked at her.
“This is exactly the place.”
Charles slammed his palm onto the table.
“Enough. Whatever happened at breakfast has nothing to do with this company.”
I placed a flash drive on the polished wood.
“It does now.”
Nobody moved.
Charles stared at it.
“What is that?”
“Three years of internal communications, procurement payments, edited engineering reports, undisclosed conflicts, and offshore transfers.”
For the first time, Charles Whitmore looked uncertain.
Paige laughed nervously.
“This is insane.”
Camille opened one of the document cases.
“No. This is indexed.”
She placed three thick binders on the table.
One in front of Charles.
One in front of Grant.
One in front of the general counsel.
Grant stared at me.
“You’ve been spying on my family?”
“No.”
I sat down.
“I’ve been paying attention.”
Charles opened the binder.
His face changed by page three.
“Where did you get this?”
“Some came from disclosures to my logistics company. Some came through compliance complaints. Some came from former employees. Some of it you filed yourself and apparently forgot contradicted your internal numbers.”
Paige grabbed the binder.
“What do you want?”
There it was.
Not—
Is this true?
Not—
Did people get hurt?
