Chapter 3 - The Ownership Clause
Walter squinted across the table, trying to read the header on the document Brandon was holding. A flicker of genuine unease crossed the old man’s eyes for the first time.
“What is that piece of paper?” Walter demanded, his voice losing its booming confidence. “Put that away and sit down before I have security throw you out of this restaurant.”
Brandon raised an eyebrow. “Security, Walter? In the restaurant I own?”
The entire table went dead silent. Mindy stopped chewing her appetizer, her mouth half-open. Lance blinked rapidly, leaning forward as if trying to decipher a foreign language.
“What did you just say?” Mindy whispered, her voice laced with sudden panic.
“You heard me,” Brandon said calmly, walking over to the table and laying the document right in front of Walter’s water goblet. “For the past two years, Walter’s manufacturing firm—Lawson & Sons Industrial—has been quietly bleeding out. Bad investments, embezzlement by your lovely business partners, and a mountain of tax liens that the IRS was about to drop like an anvil.”
Walter turned the color of curdled milk. He grabbed the edge of the table, his fingers trembling violently. “That... that’s confidential corporate information! How could you possibly—”
“Because three months ago, when you came to me crying that your life’s work was about to be auctioned off on the courthouse steps, I didn’t say no,” Brandon said, looking down at his father-in-law with absolute pity. “I bought the debt. Every single promissory note, every delinquent mortgage, and every lien against Lawson & Sons. Right now, legally, structurally, and financially, I don’t just own your company, Walter. I own this building. I own the roof over your head in La Jolla. And yes... I even own the vintage sports car Lance drives around like a rich man.”
Lance shot out of his chair so fast his seat tipped over and crashed onto the carpet. “You’re lying! Dad, tell me he’s lying! That’s impossible!”
“Check your phone, Lance,” Brandon said smoothly.
As if on cue, Lance’s smartphone buzzed violently in his pocket. Lance pulled it out with shaking fingers, stared at the screen for three seconds, and let out a choked sound, dropping the phone onto the floor where the screen shattered into a spiderweb of glass.
“Your corporate credit cards have been frozen,” Brandon said, turning back to look at Shirley, who looked like she was about to faint. “Your home equity lines have been transferred to my holding company. And as of midnight tonight, Lawson & Sons will be restructured under new management—management that does not include a single person sitting at this table.”
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Courtney stood up slowly, her hands covering her mouth. “Brandon... you bought my father’s company? Without telling me? How could you do that behind my back?”
Brandon turned to his wife, his expression entirely devoid of warmth. “I didn’t do it behind your back, Courtney. I did it to protect our children. But the moment you sat back and watched your family humiliate Lucas and Paige... I decided I wasn't going to protect any of you anymore.”
