The headline makes my head buzz with excitement. He’s really doing it, just like I’d hoped he would. He’s suing my lying, cheating jerk of a father for all he’s worth, which admittedly, isn’t much after his epic failure at the conference.

If words were weapons, he would’ve beaten me beyond recognition when I confronted him the day after the ill-fated demonstration. As it is, my pride still stings a little, even though I’ve stopped caring about his opinion of me. But nobody, no matter how hard-hearted, can escape a verbal beating like that without a psyche wound or two.

“You.” The word was a curse, delivered with all of my father’s not-inconsiderable ire, when I stepped into his office. Disgust was written all over his face, the corner of his upper lip lifted in a snarl.

“Me,” I replied with a slight shrug.

“How could a little nobody like you manage to double-cross me like that? You chose that bastard over me, your own father, didn’t you?”

I swallowed my rising rage. How could my own father speak to me that way? How could he hate me so much? What did I ever do to make him care so little about me, my life, my feelings? “Why do you hate me so much, Dad? What have I ever done to you?”

“You want to know the truth. I hate you because you look like her.”

I stare at him in astonishment. All these years and he has never once spoken to me about my mother. “What did she do to you?”

“She left me.” His tone is cold and hard. “The airhead didn’t know which side of her bread was buttered. And you are exactly the same.”

“Maybe I’m not as stupid as you thought,” I whispered, willing my voice not to shake. “Or, perhaps you’re even more witless than I am. I mean, it wasn’t difficult for me to get the upper hand once I knew the score.”

“And you would ruin me that way? Your own flesh and blood? You would allow my business to crumble, all because you felt the need to prove something?”

I shook my head slowly, even sorrowfully. He would never get it. Everything was about him, always. The ultimate narcissist. “What makes you think I wanted to prove anything to you? What makes you think anything I do has anything to do with you anymore? I wanted to do the right thing, to see the right person win out. Lincoln deserved to win. It was his idea, something he worked hard on. I would’ve done anything to make sure the bad guy didn’t profit from something he had no hand in.”

He stared at me for a long, silent moment before clapping. Slowly. Sarcastically. “My, my. You’re quite the heroine, aren’t you?”

“The heroine who knew how to fool you, anyway,” I replied. “I guess that’s as heroic as I needed to be.”

“We’ll see how heroic you are when you see my Will.”

I laughed. “You think I care about that? You never knew me at all. Not like you ever made an attempt to get to know me. I don’t need your money, and I don’t want it.”

“Right,” he sneered.

“I mean it. I’m doing just fine on my own. Now that the world knows about the Excalibur GTX3 and my role in its creation, because Lincoln has been generous enough to drop my name, but you probably know that by now. I’ve had more requests to consult on more design projects than I know what to do with.”

“I won’t wish you well,” he said and turned away from me.

This was the end. If anything, he made it easy for me to walk away from him, from any chance of having a relationship with him. There’s nothing between us. “I have a feeling I’ll have better luck than you will.” I smiled to this rigid back before turning away, and closing the door between us forever.

Now, I sit here and read the headline again, then skim the contents of the article as I sit at my usual table. I hope Lincoln cleans Arcane out and grinds it into the dust. We haven’t smoothed things over between us, and I don’t know if we ever can, after all the horrible things that have gone on between us, but he did make it a point to spread the word that I played a major role in the prototype’s success. He didn’t have to do that. Just another example of how vastly different he is from my father, who would’ve taken all the glory for himself without a second thought.

The case will never make it to court, of course. The article hints at the strong possibility that it’ll be settled privately. A shame, actually, since my father deserves to be on the witness stand having to sweat bullets.

Ryland, on the other hand, will go on trial, having been arrested for corporate espionage. I can’t believe I ever looked up to him. My heart aches for Lincoln, who cared about him much more than I ever did.

My heart aches for Lincoln, period.