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I looked at the ivory-wrapped box resting on my desk.
“It’s time, Rebecca. Burn it down.”
“I’ve been waiting six months for that sentence,” she said. “I already woke the federal judge ten minutes ago. Emergency injunctions are ready. The global asset freeze will hit the banking systems at exactly six tomorrow morning.”
I hung up and leaned back in my chair, watching the city glitter beneath the rain.
As dawn began to pale the skyline, I knew exactly what was happening across town.
Nathan was probably waking up in some luxury hotel suite with Brooke, hungover, irritated, and groggily reaching for his phone to order an absurd room-service breakfast.
He had no idea his black credit card was about to decline.
He had no idea the financial slaughter had already begun.
By noon on Monday, the grand, untouchable Pierce family illusion was collapsing in public.
Nathan sat inside the mahogany-paneled boardroom of Pierce Capital, sweating through his custom suit. He had spent the weekend trying to reach me, only to discover his calls blocked, his messages unread, and the locks on our home changed.
But my silence was no longer his biggest problem.
The CEO of Pierce Capital, Richard Kane, stood at the head of the boardroom table. The twelve senior partners sat around him in tense silence.
Richard tossed a thick red-stamped folder into the center of the table.
It landed with a heavy slap.
“Nathan,” Richard said quietly.
The room seemed to hold its breath.
“Your wife’s legal team sent this dossier to corporate compliance at eight o’clock this morning.”
Nathan went gray.
“My… my wife?”
“This dossier,” Richard continued, tapping the folder, “details exactly 2.4 million dollars in misappropriated client funds. It traces the money from our primary accounts through three Delaware shell companies and directly into accounts connected to a woman named Brooke Landon.”
A horrified gasp moved around the table.
Client embezzlement was not simply embarrassing.
It was a federal crime.
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