“You did more than that, kiddo,” I said. “You built something that can’t be torn down.”
But the night wasn’t over. As we moved toward the exit, Roger Mann stepped into our path. He looked older than he had two hours ago. His face was a map of regret.
“Steven,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Isabella.”
He looked at his granddaughter, then at the gold cords. “I’ve been blind. I’ve let Candace run her mother’s vanity for too long. I saw that speech. I saw the professor from the university.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. “This was my father’s ledger. He started with a single truck and a dream, long before we became ‘The Manns.’ I think it belongs with someone who actually knows how to build something from the ground up.”
He handed it to Isabella. Then he looked at me. “Steven, I suspect our lawyers will be in touch. I won’t be funding Candace’s legal defense for the divorce. She’s on her own.”
Candace, standing five feet away, looked as if she had been struck. “Father? You can’t be serious!”
Roger didn’t even turn around. “Go home, Candace. You’ve done enough damage for one lifetime.”
We walked out into the cool night air. The stars were out, and for the first time in twenty years, I felt like I could finally breathe.
“Pizza?” Isabella asked.
“Pizza,” I agreed. “And tomorrow, we start the real work.”
Chapter 5: The Ledger of Lies
The victory at graduation was a spectacular crescendo, but in the world of high-stakes architecture and real estate, the real work happens in the silent demolition of the basement.
The morning after the ceremony, while Isabella was sleeping off the adrenaline of the night before, my phone rang. It was Roger Mann. His voice was tight, stripped of the bravado he’d carried for decades.
