Chapter 13
Grant lost every Lombardi channel immediately.
No collector introductions.
No private showroom access.
No calls routed through my office.
No capos taking meetings because he was Isabella’s husband.
He called it destruction.
I called it separation.
“You said I was finished.”
“Yes.”
“You’re taking everything.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I’m taking back what came from me.”
His face changed.
Important distinction.
His personal assets remained his.
His Hale relationships remained his.
His abilities—if he had them—remained his.
What disappeared was borrowed Lombardi authority.
Without it, Grant suddenly looked smaller.
That was not my doing.
That was the truth being measured correctly.
He stared at Isabella.
“You wanted this.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You went running to him.”
“Noah did.”
That silenced him.
The child had exposed everything.
Not through strategy.
Through tears.
Through a sleeve pulled too high.
Through a paper flower with the wrong name on the back.
Grant looked at his son.
Noah hid behind Isabella.
For the first time, Grant saw consequence where authority used to be.
Fear in his child.
May you like
Not respect.
Never the same thing.
