Chapter 6 - The Man Holding the Numbers
Marcus Hale did not answer his phone.
His office was empty.
His company apartment had been cleared.
He had left his car inside the garage.
That meant someone else had driven him away.
Or he had planned his disappearance.
Julian immediately ordered a second forensic team to review every number Marcus had presented.
By sunrise, we found the first manipulation.
The forty-eight-million-dollar loss was real.
But incomplete.
Another thirty-two million had been hidden through currency hedging contracts.
Total exposure exceeded eighty million.
Marcus had buried almost half.
“Why expose Richard while hiding his own part?” Victoria asked.
“Because he expected Richard to fall first,” I said.
Julian nodded.
“Then Marcus could become cooperating witness.”
“Save himself.”
“And keep the accounts we didn’t find.”
The gala attack had served everyone except Victoria and me.
Richard damaged my reputation.
Victoria became the visible aggressor.
Marcus expected to become the honest CFO.
Celia expected a new life with Richard.
Blackstone expected cheap shares.
Every conspirator believed someone else would carry the punishment.
I called a full company freeze.
No executive bonuses.
No property transfers.
No vendor changes.
No layoffs.
That last order mattered.
Richard’s allies immediately began telling employees I planned to destroy jobs.
I would not let fear become his final weapon.
At nine in the morning, the first video from the gala went viral.
Not the full video.
A twenty-three-second clip.
Victoria slapped me.
My dress ripped.
Julian covered me.
Then the clip cut to his ownership announcement.
Online headlines exploded.
SECRET BILLIONAIRE EMPLOYEE EXPOSED AFTER CEO AFFAIR DRAMA.
The word “affair” survived despite everything.
Richard’s publicist understood something ugly.
People remember scandal faster than correction.
By noon, commentators questioned whether I had used ownership to pursue Richard.
By one, an anonymous source claimed Julian and I were lovers.
I looked at him.
“Well.”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
“Should I be flattered?”
“No.”
“Neither should I.”
The accusation was ridiculous.
Julian had been my father’s attorney.
Then mine.
For years our relationship remained almost aggressively professional.
But the gala jacket had created a convenient photograph.
Powerful man.
Humiliated woman.
Protective gesture.
The internet built romance in fifteen minutes.
I hated how easily women’s work disappeared behind rumors about men.
Julian noticed.
“Do not respond.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
“Stop sounding pleased.”
“I enjoy moments when you follow legal advice.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Marcus Hale whispered, “Olivia.”
“Where are you?”
“Richard knows I have copies.”
“So do I.”
“No.”
“Not these.”
“What copies?”
“The original Harrington ledgers.”
“From when?”
“Before your father became majority owner.”
I became still.
“My father rescued the company twenty-two years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And he knew why it was failing.”
“What are you saying?”
“Samuel Bennett did not simply invest.”
“He discovered something.”
“What?”
Marcus breathed heavily.
Then a car horn sounded in the background.
“Your father found evidence the Harrington family had been paying off safety inspectors after a factory accident.”
My chest tightened.
Dad had never mentioned an accident.
Marcus continued.
“Richard found the same records last year.”
“He used them to blackmail the board.”
“Where are you?”
“Union Station.”
“Locker 418.”
“Take the key from the information desk.”
“What about you?”
A pause.
“I’m leaving.”
“Marcus.”
“I stole money.”
“I’m not pretending otherwise.”
“But Richard stole more.”
“And there’s one person nobody is looking at.”
“Who?”
“Thomas Keller.”
The board chairman.
The man who had validated my ownership.
The man who had voted to suspend Richard.
Marcus whispered one final sentence.
May you like
“Your father didn’t trust him either.”
Then the call ended.
