Chapter 8 - The Desperate Plea
Three weeks after the restructuring, winter had settled over Raleigh. The temperature had dropped, but the Midtown Crossing job site was blazing with activity. Concrete mixers rumbled in and out of the gates, steel beams were hoisted into the crisp morning sky, and the local news stations were running glowing features on the miraculous turnaround of Raleigh’s premier urban development under female executive leadership.
I was sitting in my newly renovated corner office on the top floor of the Carter Development headquarters—Nathan’s old office. I had completely stripped away the pretentious mahogany cigar humidor, the gold-leaf trophies, and the velvet lounge chairs he had installed to impress his socialite friends. In their place stood clean, modern birch drafting tables, real-time construction monitor screens, and rows of pristine project binders.
My assistant buzzed the intercom. ""Mrs. Carter... Nathan is downstairs in the lobby. Security stopped him at the elevators, but he’s refusing to leave. He’s begging for five minutes with you. He says it’s an absolute emergency.""
I leaned back in my chair, looking at the city skyline outside. For three weeks, Nathan had tried everything. He had sent rambling, emotional emails alternating between furious threats and pathetic declarations of eternal love. He had tried to enlist his sister, his aunts, and his former college buddies to lobby me on his behalf. None of them succeeded. Once the forensic audit went public and the state licensing board opened a formal inquiry into his unauthorized transactions, his social circle evaporated like mist in the sun.
""Send him up,"" I said calmly. ""And have two security officers wait right outside my door.""
Two minutes later, the door opened.
The man who walked into my office looked like a ghostly, ruined caricature of the arrogant husband who had degraded me at Diane’s dining table. Nathan had lost at least fifteen pounds. His bespoke suit hung loose and wrinkled on his frame, his hair was unkempt, and the heavy dark circles under his hollow eyes spoke of sleepless, terrified nights. He held an old baseball cap in his trembling hands, twisting it obsessively.
He stopped near the doorway, looking around the transformed office in bewildered shock.
""You... you threw out my desk,"" he stammered, his voice hoarse.
""I threw out everything that didn't serve this business, Nathan,"" I replied evenly, not bothering to stand up. ""You have four minutes. Why are you here?""
Nathan took two hesitant steps forward, his eyes welling with tears. ""Emily... the Attorney General’s office called my public defender this morning. They’re preparing a formal indictment for grand larceny, corporate embezzlement, and falsifying loan documents to a federally insured institution. They're talking about five to seven years in federal prison, Emily. Five to seven years!""
""Then you should probably spend your remaining free time cooperating with your public defender,"" I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion.
""I can't go to prison!"" Nathan cried out, dropping to his knees in the middle of the office floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The sight was utterly pathetic. The man who had prided himself on his aristocratic bloodline, who had told me I lacked the elegance to stand beside him, was now crawling on the carpet before me.
""Emily, please!"" he begged, clasping his hands together. ""If you drop the civil complaint and sign an affidavit stating that those wire transfers were authorized executive bonuses, the prosecutors will drop the criminal charges! They’re only investigating because your forensic audit flagged the transactions! You can stop this with a single signature! I know I hurt you. I know I was a monster with Valerie. But I’m your husband! We took vows before God!""
""You remembered those vows three weeks too late, Nathan,"" I said, standing up and looking down at him. ""You didn't care about vows when you took Valerie to the French Riviera on my money. You didn't care about vows when you brought her to your mother's house and told me I was inadequate to my face. You thought I was weak, Nathan. You thought because I was quiet, kind, and patient, that I was stupid.""
""I was blind!"" Nathan wept, tears running down his unshaven cheeks. ""Valerie manipulated me! She fed my ego! She made me think I was bigger than I was! The second the money was frozen, she blocked my number and moved to Atlanta! She took the jewelry I bought her and disappeared! I have nothing left, Emily! The bank repossessed the Porsche yesterday! Mom is being forced to sell the North Hills estate to pay off her back taxes! We have nothing!""
""You reap what you sow, Nathan,"" I said softly. ""I will not commit perjury to keep a thief out of prison. You stole from this company, you stole from my family trust, and you tried to leave me holding twenty-two million dollars in crushing debt while you rode off into the sunset. You are going to face the full consequences of your actions.""
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I pressed the intercom button on my desk. ""Security, please escort Mr. Carter off the premises.""
Two burly security officers stepped into the room, lifting Nathan to his feet. He didn't fight them. He just looked at me with broken, hollow eyes as they led him toward the elevators, his weeping echoing down the corridor until the doors slid shut."
