Chapter 18
Three weeks later, the district attorney filed charges against Vivienne Dane.
Fraud. Criminal harassment. Violations of medical privacy laws. The list went on for three pages.
Vivienne kept her word. She pled guilty to all charges, waived her right to a trial, and requested the maximum sentence.
The judge gave her eighteen months in minimum security and five years' probation. She'd also agreed to pay restitution to Rachel Chen and three other former employees, totaling $500,000.
"It's not enough," Sophie said, reading the sentencing document. "Eighteen months for destroying someone's life?"
"It's what the law allows," Alex said. "And it's more than I expected."
They were in his office at the foundation, reviewing applications for a new grant program. Lila's Legacy Fund...scholarships for people struggling with mental health issues who want to pursue careers in therapy or social work.
It had been Izzy's idea.
"We use Lila's story to help others," she'd said. "Turn the tragedy into something useful."
Alex had approved it immediately. The fund launched with two million dollars from the gala donations. They'd already received three hundred applications.
"This one," Izzy said, sliding a file across the desk. "Sarah Chen, age twenty-four, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at eighteen. Wants to become a psychiatric nurse. Working two jobs to save for school."
Alex scanned it. "Approved. Full tuition plus living expenses."
"That's the fifteenth full scholarship today."
"We have the money. We should use it."
Izzy smiled. "Lila would've liked this. Helping people who remind you of her."
"I think she would've liked you," Alex said quietly. "You're stubborn like she was. Relentless when you believe in something."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It is."
Julian appeared in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's someone here to see you. Says it's important."
"Who?" Alex asked.
"Martin Cross."
Alex and Izzy exchanged glances. Cross hadn't been seen since the hearing, when he'd testified against Nathan.
"Send him in," Alex said.
Cross looked different. Thinner, older, wearing a suit that didn't quite fit anymore. He stood awkwardly in the doorway.
"Mr. Blackwood. Ms. Morrison. Thank you for seeing me."
"What do you want, Martin?" Alex's voice was neutral.
"To resign. Officially." Cross pulled papers from his briefcase. "I've already submitted them to HR, but I wanted to tell you in person."
"You don't have to resign," Alex said. "You testified against Nathan. You helped us."
"After enabling him for months. After forging documents and lying to the board." Cross set the papers on the desk. "I don't deserve to work here anymore."
"Everyone makes mistakes," Izzy said.
"Not like mine. I compromised everything this foundation stands for because I was afraid of losing my job. That's not a mistake. That's a failure of character."
Alex studied him. "What will you do?"
"I don't know. Figure out how to live with myself, I suppose." Cross managed a weak smile. "I wanted to apologize. To both of you. You deserved better from someone in my position."
"Apology accepted," Alex said. "But Martin? Don't throw your career away over this. You made a bad choice under pressure. That doesn't erase twenty years of good work."
"It does to me." Cross headed for the door, then paused. "For what it's worth, Lila would be proud of what you're doing. The scholarship fund, the transparency reforms, all of it. She always said you had the vision but needed someone to help you see it clearly."
He gestured at Izzy. "I think you found that person."
He left before Alex could respond.
Izzy broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"
"No. He needs to make this choice himself." Alex picked up Cross's resignation letter. "But I'm not accepting this. I'll put him on administrative leave, give him time to think. If he still wants to quit in six months, fine. But not like this."
"You're too soft," Julian said from the doorway.
"Probably. But Lila was right—I need people to balance me out. Cross was good at his job before Nathan corrupted him. He could be again."
Izzy's phone buzzed. A text from her mother: *Saw you on the news again. Very proud. Also, when do I meet this fiancé of yours?*
She showed Alex. "My family wants to meet you."
His expression went carefully blank. "When?"
"This weekend. Dinner at my parents' house in Jersey. Nothing fancy, just spaghetti and interrogation."
"Interrogation?"
"My dad's a retired cop. My brother's a Marine. They're going to grill you about your intentions."
"I intend to marry you. Is that acceptable?"
"You'll have to convince them, not me."
Alex looked genuinely nervous. "I've testified before Congress. I've negotiated with foreign dignitaries. Why is meeting your parents more terrifying?"
"Because they actually matter," Izzy said. "And because if they don't like you, I'll hear about it for the next twenty years."
"No pressure then."
"None at all."
Saturday came too quickly.
Izzy's childhood home was a modest split-level in Hoboken, with a lawn her father obsessively maintained and a kitchen that always smelled like garlic.
Her mother, Maria, opened the door before they knocked.
"Izzy!" She pulled her daughter into a hug, then turned to Alex. "And you must be Alex. Come in, come in. Don't just stand there."
Inside, Izzy's father, Frank, sat in his recliner watching a Giants game. Her brother, Danny, was in the kitchen stealing cookies.
"Dad, Danny, this is Alex."
Frank stood, sizing Alex up with a cop's eyes. "Mr. Blackwood."
"Please, call me Alex."
They shook hands. Frank's grip was deliberate, testing. Alex didn't flinch.
"Heard a lot about you," Frank said.
"All good, I hope."
"Some good. Some concerns. We'll talk after dinner."
Maria swatted her husband. "Frank, don't scare him. Alex, you like spaghetti?"
"Love it."
"Good answer. Danny, set the table. Izzy, help me with the salad."
In the kitchen, Maria whispered, "He's handsome."
"Mom."
"What? I'm just saying. And polite. You did well."
"We're not talking about this now."
"When then? At the wedding? Oh, have you set a date? I need to book the venue....."
"Mom. Please."
Maria grinned. "Fine. But I want grandchildren before I'm seventy."
Dinner was organized chaos. Danny told Marine stories. Frank grilled Alex about the foundation, his politics, and his intentions toward Izzy. Maria kept refilling everyone's wine glasses and asking increasingly personal questions.
"So when you proposed the second time," Maria said, "what did you say exactly?"
"Mom!" Izzy protested.
"What? I want details. My only daughter gets engaged, I deserve details."
Alex smiled. "I told her she was the most stubborn, brilliant, impossible woman I'd ever met. And that I wanted to build something real with her."
Maria beamed. "That's romantic."
"It was a disaster," Izzy said. "I was wearing a four-thousand-dollar dress I was afraid to sit in."
"Four thousand dollars?" Frank's cop instincts activated. "For one dress?"
"It was the gala," Alex explained. "She needed something appropriate for...."
"Nobody needs a four-thousand-dollar dress," Frank said.
"I agree," Alex said. "I offered to buy her ten dresses for half that price. She refused."
Danny laughed. "That sounds like Izzy."
After dinner, Frank pulled Alex onto the back porch. Izzy watched through the window, trying not to panic.
"What do you think they're talking about?" she asked Danny.
"Dad's probably threatening him. Standard protective father speech."
"Alex doesn't need threatening. He's a good person."
"So why are you nervous?"
"Because Dad's opinion matters. To both of us."
Outside, Frank lit a cigar. "You seem like a smart guy, Alex."
"I try to be."
"So you know what I'm going to ask."
"If I love your daughter and if my intentions are serious."
"That. And if you're going to hurt her."
Alex met his eyes. "I can't promise I won't hurt her. People in relationships hurt each other sometimes. But I can promise I'll never hurt her intentionally. And if I do hurt her, I'll own it and work to fix it."
Frank studied him. "You were married before."
"I was."
"Your wife died."
"She did."
"You still love her?"
Alex didn't hesitate. "Part of me always will. But it's different now. Lila was my past. Izzy's my future. I can honor one without sacrificing the other."
"And if Izzy can't handle that?"
"Then we'll figure it out together. That's what partnership means."
Frank took a long drag on his cigar. "My daughter's the smartest person I know. Scholarship to Columbia, graduated top of her class, could've done anything. But she's also stubborn as hell and doesn't always see when people are using her."
"I'm not using her."
"You hired her to fake an engagement."
"I did. And it was wrong. But she called me on it, negotiated fair terms, and turned a transactional arrangement into something real. She's nobody's victim, Mr. Morrison. Least of all mine."
Frank smiled for the first time. "You're right about that. She'd kick your ass before she'd let you take advantage of her."
"I'm aware. She's kicked my ass several times already."
"Good. Keep it that way." Frank stubbed out his cigar. "You hurt her, I know people. Just remember that."
"Noted."
They went back inside. Maria had dessert ready—tiramisu that she'd been making since noon.
"So?" Izzy asked her father.
"So he'll do," Frank said. "For now."
Alex's shoulders relaxed visibly.
Danny raised his wine glass. "To Izzy and Alex. May your fights be short and your makeup sex be legendary."
"Danny!" Maria shrieked.
"What? I'm just being honest."
Izzy buried her face in her hands. Alex laughed, actually laughed, and Izzy realized he fit here. In her chaotic, loving, overwhelming family.
They stayed until midnight, eating too much dessert and listening to Maria's stories about Izzy's childhood. When they finally left, Maria hugged Alex.
"You're family now," she said. "That means you're stuck with us."
"I wouldn't want it any other way," Alex said.
In the car, Izzy took his hand. "You survived."
"Barely. Your brother threatened to kill me if I mess this up."
"He was joking."
"Was he?"
"Probably."
Alex pulled her close. "Your family's wonderful."
"They're insane."
"Same thing." He kissed her forehead. "Thank you for bringing me here. For including me."
"Where else would you be?"
"Alone. Like I've been for two years."
"Not anymore," Izzy said. "You're stuck with the Morrisons now. All of us."
"Lucky me."
They drove back to the city, back to the foundation and the work and the life they were building together.
Behind them, Frank Morrison watched from the porch.
"Is she happy?" Maria asked, joining him.
"Yeah," Frank said. "She is."
"Then that's all that matters."