Chapter 6 - The Boardroom Echoes
“Mom? Are you almost done at the office? We’re ordering pizza, and Elena says she found a really cool park down the street.”
Gaby’s voice came through the speaker, warm and grounded, cutting straight through the heavy, oppressive atmosphere of the executive boardroom.
“I’m wrapping up right now, sweetheart,” I said, keeping my gaze fixed on the mahogany table where the court-appointed auditors were already unzipping their digital cases. “Tell your auntie I’ll be on the next flight back to Phoenix tonight.”
“Okay. Don’t let the bad guys win, Mom.”
“Never,” I whispered, before hanging up.
When I lowered the phone, Raymond was standing just inside the open doorway of the boardroom, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Two federal marshals flanked him, their arms crossed, blocking him from stepping any closer to the head of the table.
“Brenda, please,” Raymond pleaded, his eyes wide and bloodshot. The veneer of arrogant confidence he had worn outside the San Antonio courthouse days ago had completely evaporated, leaving behind a pathetic, hollow shell of a man. “The federal agents are saying they’re going to audit every personal asset, including our old joint accounts. If they freeze everything, I won't even be able to pay legal fees.”
“That sounds like a conversation you should have with your defense attorney, Raymond,” I replied smoothly, not even looking up as I signed my name onto the court receivership intake form. “Not with the woman you told to expect nothing more than monthly child support.”
“You can’t just cut me out like this!” Raymond’s voice cracked, rising in pitch as panic took over. He took a sudden, desperate step forward, forcing one of the marshals to plant a heavy hand against his chest. “We built this company together! Sixteen years!”
“No, Raymond,” a deep, gravelly voice echoed from the doorway.
Walter Miller stepped into the boardroom, leaning heavily on a carved wooden cane. His face was gray, his shoulders slumped under the weight of utter ruin. He didn't look at his son; his tired, defeated eyes met mine across the long expanse of the table.
“She built it, Raymond,” Walter said quietly, his voice raspy with regret. “You and your brother spent sixteen years trying to tear it down while living off the sweat of her parents’ land. Don't blame Brenda for finally letting the house of cards fall.”
Raymond stared at his father in absolute horror, realizing for the first time that even the patriarch who had shielded his incompetence for decades had finally abandoned him.
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Before Raymond could speak another word, a sharp alert chimed on my laptop. An encrypted email from Evelyn Vance flashed across the screen with a subject line that made my blood run cold: Urgent: Gavin just crossed the state line with corporate backup keys.
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