“Then explain.”
Mercer glanced at the investors.
“This is being misunderstood.”
Naomi shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“You changed the Chinese version.”
Mercer's jaw tightened.
“You have no evidence.”
Naomi reached for the document.
“Yes, I do.”
She pointed to the date.
“This version was created three weeks after the English contract.”
“So?”
“The Chinese text references a meeting that had not happened yet.”
Mercer stared.
Naomi continued.
“That means the Chinese document was not translated from the English one.”
Mr. Liang's attorney looked at the date.
He nodded slowly.
“She is correct.”
Mercer stepped backward.
Adrian stared at him.
“Did you create another contract?”
Mercer remained silent.
Adrian's voice dropped.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
The word landed like a stone.
Mr. Liang stood.
“Why?”
Mercer looked at Adrian.
“I was trying to protect the company.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“By secretly changing an investment agreement?”
Mercer shook his head.
“You don't understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
Mercer looked exhausted.
“The project was going to fail.”
Silence.
“What?”
Mercer explained.
Construction costs had risen dramatically.
The city had delayed permits.
Several lenders had withdrawn.
The project was already in financial trouble.
“If the investors discovered the problem,” Mercer said, “they would have walked away.”
Adrian stared at him.
“So you altered the contract?”
“I created a version that gave us more time.”
“And exposed us to eighty million dollars?”
“I thought I could fix it.”
Naomi looked at him.
“You didn't fix anything.”
Mercer looked at her.
“No.”
His voice was almost a whisper.
“I made it worse.”
Mr. Liang's expression hardened.
“Why should we trust anyone in this room?”
Naomi answered before Adrian could.
“You shouldn't.”
Everyone looked at her.
She continued.
“Trust is not something you demand after a mistake. It's something you rebuild after telling the truth.”
Mr. Liang studied her.
Then he smiled.
“Your grandmother taught you well.”
Naomi smiled back.
“My grandmother taught me that a bridge is useless if both sides refuse to cross it.”
Mr. Liang extended his hand.
“Then perhaps we should begin again.”
Naomi shook it.
Adrian watched.
The hundred-thousand-dollar bet seemed almost absurd now.
But there was still one unfinished matter.
He turned toward Naomi.
“I owe you one hundred thousand dollars.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Yes.”
“I'll have my accountant transfer it tomorrow.”
“No.”
Adrian frowned.
“No?”
“I don't want it.”
The room went silent again.
“Why?”
Naomi looked at the silver tray still sitting beside her.
“Because you offered it to prove that I was beneath you.”
She removed her restaurant badge.
“I don't want money from humiliation.”
Then she placed the badge on the table.
“I want something else.”
Adrian stared.
“What?”
“An apology.”
Adrian Vale had apologized many times.
Usually when lawyers told him it was cheaper than fighting.
He had apologized to investors.
Business partners.
Employees.
Even government officials.
But he had never apologized because someone deserved an apology.
That was different.
He looked at Naomi.
“What exactly do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
Adrian frowned.
“You want me to apologize in front of everyone?”
“Yes.”
He looked around the room.
Dozens of people were watching.
His pride resisted.
Then Mr. Liang spoke.
“She is asking for something you offered without hesitation when you thought she was powerless.”
Adrian looked at him.
Mr. Liang continued.
“Now you hesitate when she asks for respect.”
Adrian lowered his eyes.
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, he realized how small he had behaved.
He turned toward Naomi.
“I was wrong.”
Naomi waited.