“No.”
“Aliyah, please understand what is at stake.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I understand exactly what is at stake.”
“I mean the company.”
“So do I.”
“Eleven thousand employees.”
“Ten thousand eight hundred and forty-two according to the latest workforce schedule.”
Edward stopped.
Aliyah continued.
“I know the company, Edward.”
Her voice was still calm.
“I know the debt maturities.”
“I know the plant-level margins.”
“I know which customer concentration creates covenant risk.”
“I know which facilities can be saved.”
“I know how many families depend on this business.”
“And I know that you walked away from me twice tonight.”
Edward’s face collapsed.
He had no answer.
Marcus Webb entered the ballroom.
He saw Aliyah.
Then stopped.
Every person who worked closely with Marcus knew there were moments when his face revealed nothing.
This was not one.
He looked at the mark on her cheek.
The torn dress.
The red pressure around her arms.
“Who did this?”
Aliyah held up a hand.
“Marcus.”
He came closer.
“Who?”
“Later.”
“No.”
“Marcus.”
He breathed once.
Then nodded.
Professional again.
“Do you want to leave?”
Aliyah looked toward the stage.
The blue-bound contracts waited beneath the chandelier.
“No.”
Marcus understood.
“Do you want the microphone?”
“Yes.”
Gerald whispered:
“Aliyah, before you say anything publicly, let counsel—”
“I am counsel.”
Gerald shut his mouth.
She had been licensed before moving fully into investment management.
He had forgotten.
At 9:14 p.m., Aliyah walked to the stage.
Three hundred people watched.
The room parted for her.
Bree lowered her phone only when Aliyah reached the podium.
Preston’s remained recording inside his jacket.
Aliyah placed both hands against the lectern.
She could feel the sting in her cheek each time she moved her jaw.
Her torn dress had been temporarily secured at the shoulder by Maria Chen, one of Ashbrook’s junior associates, using two small safety pins borrowed from catering.
The repair was visible.
Aliyah left it visible.
She looked over the room.
“My name is Aliyah Owens.”
Her voice was clear.
“I am the founder and managing partner of Ashbrook Equity Partners.”
A murmur moved through the ballroom.
She waited.
“Ashbrook has spent nearly six months evaluating a proposed recapitalization and restructuring of Harrington Textile Group.”
Edward closed his eyes.
“The transaction scheduled for execution tonight would have provided new equity capital, debt restructuring, and operating liquidity intended to stabilize the company while preserving its viable manufacturing operations.”
She looked directly at the board members.
“That transaction will not be executed tonight.”
The room inhaled.
“Effective immediately, Ashbrook is suspending negotiations and withdrawing its execution authorization.”
Constance’s knees seemed to weaken.
Aliyah continued.
“The reasons will be communicated through counsel.”
She looked toward Gerald.
“Our advisers will preserve all documents relating to tonight’s event.”
Then toward the guests.
“I apologize to those of you who came expecting a celebration.”
A strange expression moved through several faces.
She had been assaulted.
And she was apologizing for the canceled ceremony.
Aliyah saw it.
“So let me correct that.”
She paused.