Chapter 5 - The Fall of Whitfield Capital
Declan stumbled backward against a marble column, his vision blurring. The glittering lights of the gala, the laughter of the donors, the soft string quartet—it all faded into a deafening roar in his ears.
"Celeste?" Declan choked out, his voice cracking. "Celeste is a nurse! She doesn't have forty million dollars! She doesn't own the Geneva fund!"
"Her grandfather founded OmniHealth, you idiot!" Garrett snapped, abandoning all deference. "She owned the fund the whole time! She gave us the capital to launch this entire company while we were working out of a rented basement! And now she’s calling the note. If we don't wire forty million by Monday morning, her trust automatically seizes sixty percent of our general partnership equity!"
Petra rushed over, seeing Declan’s distressed state. "Declan, darling, what's happening? The photographers want a photo of us by the Monet—"
"Shut up, Petra!" Declan barked, his facade cracking completely in front of three nearby board members.
Petra gasped, stepping back in shock as several guests turned to stare. "How dare you speak to me like that?!"
"The apartment!" Declan grabbed her wrist, his voice shaking with furious panic. "The Gold Coast penthouse! Did you register Asteria Holdings under your private corporate tax ID like I told you not to?!"
Petra tried to yank her wrist free, her cheeks burning crimson with humiliation. "I had to! The building board required a resident tax identity! What difference does it make?!"
"It makes you a corporate liability, Ms. Voss," a calm, commanding voice rang out behind them.
The crowd parted. Celeste walked into the center of the gallery.
She wore an elegant, flowing navy velvet gown that framed her seven-month baby bump with regal grace. Her dark hair was swept up, exposing a diamond choker that had belonged to her grandmother. Beside her walked Harrison Vance and two senior enforcement officers from the Illinois Financial Regulatory Division.
The entire ballroom went dead silent.
May you like
"Celeste?" Declan whispered, his knees trembling.
"Good evening, Declan," Celeste said, her voice clear, melodious, and completely devoid of mercy. "It seems your preliminary separation agreement was missing a few crucial attachments. I came to deliver them personally."
