Chapter 7 - Unmasking The Fraud
"What is the meaning of this childish stunt?" Edward hissed, stepping aggressively toward me, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Turn those screens off right now, or I will have security throw you into the street!"
"Security answers to the building management, Edward," David Ross stepped between us, holding up a federal court summons stamped with that morning's judicial seal. "And this is a federal subpoena for the immediate preservation of all server logs belonging to Morse Development Group."
David projected the next set of slides onto the giant monitors.
Side by side on the massive display was the forged whistleblower memo that had damaged Meridian's stock, matched word for word against a draft discovered on Edward’s personal encrypted workstation. The digital forensic timestamps, IP routes, and the proprietary metadata were undeniable.
Blake looked up at the screen, his mouth opening and closing like a stranded fish.
"Dad... what is that?" Blake stammered, backing away from his father as the circle of high-society patrons widened, repulsed by the blatant corporate sabotage on display. "You told me the feds were investigating her! You said she set us up!"
"Shut up, Blake!" Edward snarled, his polite veneer completely disintegrating in front of the city's entire financial elite.
"You fabricated federal fraud charges against your own daughter to crash a forty-seven million dollar acquisition," I said, looking straight into his cold, calculating eyes. "Because you knew that if I succeeded, I would finally be allowed to look at grandfather’s trust."
At the mention of Arthur Morse’s name, my father stumbled back as though struck by an invisible hammer.
My mother stared at him in utter bewilderment.
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"Arthur's trust?" Eleanor whispered, clutching her husband's arm. "Edward, what is she talking about? Your father left everything to you!"
"No, Mom," I said, turning to look at her with deep, unvarnished pity. "He left fifty-one percent of the development firm to his eldest grandchild upon their thirty-fifth birthday—provided I proved myself as an independent entrepreneur. Dad spent twenty years calling me a failure because my success was the only thing that could take his crown away."
