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Of course there is.

"Mr. Kauffman will be required to dissolve the marriage to Ms. Taylor. If the relationship resumes in any material way—formally or informally—the board will treat that as evidence of continued fraud and revisit the protections extended to the other beneficiaries."

There it is.

Not the money. Not the position.

Aria.

I have to lose Aria or my siblings lose everything.

My dead father. Still running the damn family from a filing cabinet. I'd almost be impressed if I weren't the one sitting here getting gutted by it.

Christian turns toward me, voice low. "We need time."

"I'll take the deal," I say.

His hand lands hard on my forearm.

"Everett."

I don't look at him.

"With conditions," I add.

Preston's eyes narrow. "You are not in a position to negotiate."

"And yet I am."

I hold her gaze.

"First, the protections for my siblings are explicit. Not implied. Their inheritances, their roles within the company, their projects, their authority. No retaliation. No restructuring. No quiet punishment later because this board got embarrassed today."

A look passes between Preston and the trustee to her right.

She nods once. "That can be documented."

"Second." I lean forward. "Aria Taylor's father is a patient at Brookhaven Memory Center. When this marriage ends, she loses the financial support keeping him there. I want his care fully covered. Not three years. Indefinitely."

The room goes quiet.

Different kind of quiet.

Preston studies me for a long moment.

"That can also be arranged."

Christian looks at me then. Really looks.

And I know exactly what he's hearing: I negotiated for my siblings. I negotiated for her father. I asked for nothing for myself.

I don't let myself think about what that means. Not yet.

"Then we have a deal," I say.

"Not entirely." Preston glances at the folder. "The trust's real property provisions are clear. Kauffman properties revert upon disinheritance. That includes the penthouse and the Mercer Island estate."

The estate.