Chapter 4 - Stripped of Power
Richard didn't move toward the boxes. Instead, he shoved past Marcus and stepped into my office, slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind him. The sound rattled the glass awards lined along the credenza.
""Is this your revenge?"" he hissed, leaning over the desk with veins bulging along his temples. ""Eleven years of marriage, Emily! Eleven years! You slept in my bed, you kissed my cheek every morning, and the entire time you were planning to steal my birthright?""
I didn't flinch. I didn't even lean back. I picked up my pen, signed off on a supplier invoice, and set it neatly in the outgoing tray before looking up at him.
""Your birthright?"" I asked softly. ""What birthright, Richard? The birthright to bankrupt thirty thousand factory workers in Ohio and Michigan because you wanted to pretend to be an oil baron? The birthright to embezzle twelve million dollars from employee pension reserves to pay off your gambling markers in Macau?""
Richard went dead silent. The blood drained from his face until his lips were pale.
""You... you don't know about that,"" he whispered, his hands trembling against the polished wood.
""I know everything,"" I replied, opening the top black binder. ""I know about the private jet charters to Macau. I know about the offshore accounts in Vanuatu. I know that three years ago, when you came home weeping and threw yourself at my feet claiming that an evil hedge fund was shorting Whitmore stock, it was actually you who had shorted our own shares through a proxy firm to cover your losses.""
I stood up, walking slowly around the desk until I stood two feet in front of him. For eleven years, I had made myself small so that he could feel tall. But standing there, looking into his terrified, bloodshot eyes, I realized he was nothing more than an insecure child hiding behind a famous family surname.
""I didn't take your company, Richard. You forfeited it. Arthur came to me three years ago with tears in his eyes, ready to turn you over to federal prosecutors. He was going to let you go to prison to save the family honor. Do you know who stopped him?""
Richard swallowed hard, unable to speak.
""I did,"" I whispered. ""I told your father that sending you to prison would crash the stock and destroy the livelihoods of every honest man and woman working on our assembly lines. I traded fifty million dollars of my grandfather's inheritance to buy your debts and bury your crimes. All I asked in return was that you grow up. That you work hard, treat our people with dignity, and honor our vows.""
A bitter smile touched my lips.
""And how did you reward my mercy? You brought your mistress to your father's seventieth birthday, gave her my seat, and told me in front of fourteen people that I belonged by the garbage cans.""
""Emily, please,"" Richard choked out, tears finally breaking past his defenses as he reached for my hands. ""I made a mistake. Vanessa was a distraction, an ego trip! She meant nothing to me! We can fix this. We're husband and wife! Think about what we built together!""
""We built nothing together,"" I said, stepping back so his hands grasped empty air. ""You built a house of cards on top of my money. And last night, you blew it down yourself.""
The office door clicked open. Two uniformed security officers stepped inside, accompanied by a police detective carrying a manila folder.
""Mr. Whitmore?"" the detective asked, flashing his gold badge. ""I’m Detective Miller, Financial Crimes Division. We have a warrant for your personal electronic devices and financial records in connection with an ongoing grand jury investigation into wire fraud.""
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Richard looked at the detective, then back at me. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
""Take the service elevator on your way down, Richard,"" I said, sitting back down at my desk. ""Tonight, important people sit together. And you are no longer one of them.""
