Townsend seized on her words. “An apology isn’t enough! You must pay for the losses you’ve caused!”

“You!” Her anger erupted so quickly that she nearly lost her breath.

“The one to leave this company won’t be you. Sit down,” Rylie said. The calm in her voice carried more weight than shouting ever could. Alyssa met her steady gaze, and without protest, eased back into her chair.

Rylie picked up her phone and placed a call overseas. After two rings, it was answered.

Dennis’ cheerful voice rang out. “Rylie! Don’t tell me you’re arriving in Ostium ahead of schedule!”

“No, Dennis.” She held Townsend’s defiant stare as her words came measured and clear. “I need a favor. Could you look into a graduate from your school for me?”

“Of course. Tell me the name, and I’ll have someone check immediately.”

“Townsend Howe,” said Rylie. “Eshea native. I’ve already forwarded you his details. Please also inform the founder of Celeste that his designs have been copied.”

The certainty in her voice struck the room like a spark, and several at the table struggled to keep from laughing outright.

“What? Dennis? The Dennis from the Royal Academy of Arts in Ostium? And Rylie has his personal number?”

“You can’t be serious. Do you even know who Dennis is? He’s the crown of the art world, the kind of man everyone respects. And she just calls him like that?”

Rylie ended the call without hesitation and fixed Townsend with a sharp gaze. “So, you never even graduated from a real academy. Expelled for plagiarism and poor work. Is that résumé of yours nothing but a lie?”

Townsend’s face faltered at last, the mask slipping into panic. Could she really know Dennis? And worse — had she asked a legend like him to dig into someone as insignificant as himself? It was unthinkable.

But then his phone rang. The name flashing on the screen was none other than the founder of Celeste, a figure he had once crossed paths with.

His hand shook as he answered, and in seconds his face was drained of color. He hung up quickly and stumbled toward Rylie, dropping to his knees. “Miss Owen, I was wrong! Please don’t let them expose my résumé. Don’t let Celeste come after me for plagiarism. If they do, their claim will destroy me. I’d be ruined overnight!”

Celeste had risen fast as a luxury brand across the globe, and Townsend had shamelessly stolen their designs. If it came to court, the damages would reach tens of millions.

He and Lucinda were never true Garrett heirs, only distant kin, and with Sweetberry already teetering, there was no way Laurel would shield him. That thought stripped the last of his arrogance. On his knees, he was nothing but a man begging at Rylie’s feet.

“I was wrong. I’ll change. I promise I’ll change.”

Rylie didn’t so much as glance his way. Instead, she turned to the stunned group seated around the table and addressed them one at a time. “Benny Mills, deputy manager of Marketing, last quarter you padded offline promotion expenses by eight million dollars. Where did that money really go?”

“Thurston Deleon, procurement specialist, for three years straight you’ve been taking kickbacks from three material suppliers, pushing prices up by fifteen percent. Where did the extra profit end up?”

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