Daniel met me at headquarters within the hour carrying legal filings thick enough to cause injury if thrown hard enough. My firm occupied the top floors of a glass tower downtown, with a lobby designed to communicate one message clearly: serious people do serious work here. I told security not to keep the Carters out if they showed up. I wanted them inside, under cameras, with witnesses, in acoustics built for consequence.
Narcissists love an audience.
The trick is letting them choose the stage and then controlling the lights.
They arrived right on schedule.
Ryan came in first in a wrinkled blazer, desperation radiating off him like heat. Nicole followed filming on her phone. Donna came behind them looking smaller, meaner, reduced to grievance and costume jewelry. The lobby quieted as Ryan began shouting.
“I want everybody to know who they work for,” he yelled. “Your boss is a criminal.”