Chapter 7 - The Conference Room Table
The conference room on the thirty-second floor of Weston & Vance Capital smelled of expensive leather, cold coffee, and corporate dread. Marcus Vance sat at the head of the mahogany table, tapping a silver pen against a printed copy of the forensic audit. Across from him sat three senior board members, their expressions grim and unforgiving.
The heavy glass door swung open, and Emma walked into the room. She wasn't wearing her trench coat anymore; she carried herself with an unshakeable poise that immediately silenced the whispers around the table.
Marcus stood up, his brow furrowing in sharp irritation. "Mrs. Weston. This is a restricted executive meeting. You have no business here."
"I think you'll find I have every business being here, Marcus," Emma said, pulling out the chair directly opposite him and sitting down without waiting for an invitation. She placed her leather tote bag on the table and unzipped it.
"Security," Marcus barked toward the door, "escort Mrs. Weston out immediately."
"Before you do that," Emma said smoothly, sliding a certified copy of the forged power of attorney and the loan distribution ledgers across the polished wood toward Marcus, "you might want to look at who actually holds the primary liability for the Atlantic Development capital shortfall."
Marcus looked down at the papers. His eyes scanned the first paragraph, tracking the signatures and the cross-references to the personal trust accounts. The arrogant color drained from his face within five seconds.
"Where did you get this?" Marcus whispered, his voice losing its authoritative edge.
"From Andrew's private safe upstairs," Emma said calmly, leaning back in her chair. "And that's just the introduction. My attorney has already forwarded copies of these exact documents to the federal banking regulators overseeing the firm's liquidity reserves. Andrew used my estate as collateral for his high-risk tech ventures without my knowledge or consent. Which means if the firm collapses under this audit, those debts attach directly to the corporate assets you and your father managed."
One of the senior board members, an elderly man named Henderson, adjusted his glasses and looked sharply at Marcus. "Is this true, Marcus? Did Andrew secure firm-adjacent liabilities using external private trusts without board clearance?"
Marcus swallowed hard, staring at the documents as if they were venomous. He realized in that instant that Andrew hadn't just embezzled from the firm; he had poisoned the well with illegal collateral that could bring down every partner at Weston & Vance.
"We need to contain this," Marcus muttered, his hands flat on the table.
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"You can't contain federal fraud, Marcus," Emma said, standing up and gathering her bag. "And you certainly can't contain the fallout when Andrew tries to blame his partners for the mess he made. My divorce attorney will be filing for a complete asset freeze by this afternoon. I suggest you decide whether you're going down with Andrew, or if you're going to help dismantle him first."
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