Chapter 6 - The Trap Snaps Shut
I didn't sit down.
I stood at the foot of the table, rested my fingertips against the cool mahogany, and nodded to Elena.
Elena walked over to the digital projector console, plugged in David Chen’s drive, and dimmed the lights. A single slide appeared on the 100-inch display: a high-resolution scan of an Apex Freight Systems proprietary non-disclosure agreement, dated three weeks prior, bearing Daniel Collins’s electronic signature.
Daniel’s face went the color of skim milk.
“Before we discuss my supposed 'medical leave,'” I began, my voice slicing through the chilled air of the room, “let’s discuss the price tag Daniel put on Vanguard’s intellectual property.”
“What is this?” Arthur Sterling sputtered, squinting at the screen. “Daniel, what is that?”
“It’s a forgery!” Daniel gasped, his voice jumping an octave. He gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. “Emma fabricated this! She’s trying to destroy my reputation because I asked for a prenuptial agreement!”
“Don't interrupt her, Daniel,” Richard Vance said, his voice dropping like an iron portcullis. “Continue, Emma.”
“Slide two,” I said.
David clicked the remote. The screen shifted to an audit log showing Daniel’s corporate account accessing Vanguard’s proprietary logistics algorithm at 2:14 a.m. last Tuesday, followed immediately by an encrypted transmission to an external server registered to Apex Freight.
“Slide three,” I said.
The Helios Holdings bank records appeared. The forty thousand dollars stolen from the wedding escrow account. The thirty-eight thousand five hundred dollars transferred to short Vanguard stock.
“And slide four,” I said, as David brought up the final document. “The certified disclosure from the New York State Registrar of Corporations, identifying Helios Holdings as an entity managed solely by Daniel Collins, with its banking authorizations tied directly to Margaret Collins’s personal credit facility.”
The room went completely, utterly airless.
Arthur Sterling sank back into his chair, his mouth hanging slightly open, his jowls slumping as if all the air had been let out of his body. The three independent board members leaned forward, their expressions hardening into masks of pure corporate outrage.
“Daniel,” Richard Vance said softly. “Did you authorize these transfers?”
“It was… it was an investment strategy!” Daniel stammered, looking frantically around the table for an ally who was no longer there. “I was hedging our position! Emma knew about it—she’s framing me! She’s angry because my mother wanted the house on Maple Crest in my name!”
“Why would your mother want Emma’s house in your name, Daniel?” Elena Vance asked from the corner, her voice dripping with venomous amusement.
“Because it’s traditional!” Daniel shouted, losing all control. “Because a man should hold the deed! Because she treats me like an employee in my own life! She makes more money than me, she orders me around, she made me feel like an ornament at every dinner party we ever went to! I built those connections! I brought the Collins name to this firm!”
“Your name,” Richard Vance said coldly, “is currently costing this firm fifteen thousand dollars an hour in emergency legal review.”
Richard turned to me.
“Emma, did you sign off on any of these file transfers, account creations, or communications with Apex?”
“I did not,” I replied. “Furthermore, I have already notified the Special Prosecutions Bureau of the Manhattan District Attorney's office. Detective Miller is waiting downstairs in the lobby.”
Daniel bolted out of his chair. “You called the police? On your own fiancé?”
“You stopped being my fiancé the moment your mother picked up that microphone,” I told him, looking down at him with an indifference that hit him harder than any slap could have. “And you stopped being an employee of this company thirty seconds ago.”
Richard Vance picked up his pen. “I move that Daniel Collins be terminated immediately for cause, gross misconduct, and breach of fiduciary duty. All company assets, access badges, and hardware are to be seized immediately. Do I have a second?”
“Second,” Arthur Sterling whispered, his voice broken, not daring to look at Daniel.
“All in favor?”
Every hand at the table went up.
May you like
Daniel stood there, surrounded by the men he had thought were his protectors, completely alone. The portfolio he had brought to orchestrate my ruin fell from his fingers, spilling empty white pages across the carpet.
***
