At My Sister’s $5 Million Wedding, My Father Poured Wine Down My Dress and Called Me a Pathetic Spinster on the Microphone. I Made One Phone Call
I happened to know why.
For months the Fairchild empire had been quietly hemorrhaging money, drowning in debt it could not service, and for months they had been submitting proposal after proposal to Zachary’s private equity arm, begging for a bailout that would keep them alive.
He shoved past a waiter and hurried across the marble with his hand already out and a frantic smile stretched across his sweating face.
“Mr.
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