I reached into my emerald clutch and pulled out a single crisp one-dollar bill.

I didn’t hand it to him. I let it go, watching it tumble end over end until it landed in the puddle of champagne near his knees.

“Tomorrow, my acquisition team will buy the remaining assets of Vance Manufacturing at the bankruptcy auction,” I said, my voice as cold as a mountain stream.

“I’ll be turning your headquarters into a community center for the people you looked down on. That dollar? That’s your severance pay. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

I turned to Clara and held out my hand. She took it, her grip firm and sure.

She didn’t look back at the broken man on the floor or the ruined woman beside him. She didn’t need to.