Chương 6
When asked why, Peter said, “Ethan told me the board didn’t need every detail until the reorganization was complete.”
When asked whether Celeste knew, Peter hesitated.
Then said, “Celeste was in the room.”
That interview moved three directors.
Not enough.
The board had nine voting members besides Vivian, who recused herself from several proceedings because of the marital conflict.
Four supported placing Ethan on temporary leave.
Three opposed.
Two wanted more evidence.
One of the two was George Ellis.
The same George who would later stare at Vivian’s shaved head beside the champagne tower.
George called her the week before the gala.
“I love you like family,” he said.
He did not.
George loved her father like a man loves someone who once made him rich.
“But?”
“But this is becoming dangerous.”
“For whom?”
“For everybody.”
“That’s not a category.”
“Clients are hearing things.”
“From Ethan.”
“From people.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Settle it privately.”
Vivian looked out her office window at Manhattan.
“How?”
“Give Ethan room to complete the reorganization. Put oversight around him. Review the Rowan contracts separately.”
“And Celeste?”
A pause.
George said, “Whatever is happening personally is none of my business.”
“You think something is happening.”
“I think marriage is complicated.”
“You’ve been married four times.”
“Exactly.”
Vivian almost laughed.
“George, if Ethan knowingly concealed a related-party transaction—”
“If.”
“Yes. If.”
“And if he didn’t?”
“Then the review clears him.”
“Does it?”
The question irritated her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means sometimes investigation itself creates the stain.”
“So we shouldn’t investigate powerful people because innocence might be inconvenient?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“It’s very close.”
George sighed.
“You sound like Henry.”
That ended the conversation.
Vivian sat alone for several minutes afterward.
Her father had been dead four years.
People still used him as a weapon.
Sometimes as praise.
Sometimes as warning.
Henry Hale could dominate a room without raising his voice. He had also once fired a man during the man’s daughter’s wedding weekend because, as he told Vivian later, Monday would have been inefficient.
She had spent adulthood trying not to become him.
Every difficult decision reopened the question of whether she already had.
The gala arrived with a tropical storm moving north faster than forecast.
The captain recommended shifting the event shoreside.
Ethan refused.
Vivian agreed with the captain.
Ethan accused her of using the weather to undermine him.
She stared at him across their bedroom.
“Do you hear yourself?”
He tightened his cuff link.
“Do you?”
They had not slept in the same room in five weeks.
He still dressed there because his closet was larger.
Vivian sat at the vanity while a stylist pinned her hair.
The orange gown hung from the wardrobe door.
It was more elaborate than she liked.
Ethan had chosen it months earlier.
“You look good in color,” he had said.
Now every compliment felt contaminated by hindsight.
The stylist left to get a steamer.
Ethan watched Vivian through the mirror.
“You can still stop this.”
“The storm?”
“The board ambush.”
“There is no board ambush.”
“Four directors are attending tonight.”
“Seven.”
His jaw tightened.
“You invited them?”
“They were already invited.”
“You encouraged them to come.”
“It’s our annual foundation gala.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend.”
Vivian turned in the chair.
“Pretend what?”
“That you’re innocent.”
The word was so extraordinary she almost admired it.
“Innocent of what?”
“Of trying to destroy me.”
“You lied about eleven-point-eight million dollars.”
“I made decisions you would have made if you still had the nerve to run the company.”
Vivian stood.
There it was again.
The wound he knew where to find.
He came closer.
“Do you know what people say about you now?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Then tell me.”
“They say you left the hard job, kept the title, and came back the moment you felt irrelevant.”
Vivian stared at him.
Ethan’s expression softened.
It happened too late.
“I’m telling you because—”
“Because you care?”
“Because I know what this will do to you.”
“No. You know what you hope it will do.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither was Daniel.”
His face closed.
The stylist returned carrying the steamer and stopped just inside the door.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Vivian looked at her.
“It’s fine.”
It was not fine.
Everyone always knew when rich people were fighting.
Staff simply became talented at pretending furniture was more interesting.
On the yacht, the storm worsened.
Guests arrived anyway.
Money made people strangely willing to board large objects during weather advisories.
Vivian greeted donors for forty-five minutes.
Ethan stood beside her for twenty.
Celeste arrived wearing a black suit instead of a gown.
That choice bothered Vivian more than it should have.
It made Celeste look as if she had come to work.
At eight-thirty, Mara texted Vivian.
Need five minutes privately.
Vivian excused herself from a conversation about fisheries policy and went to the observation salon.
Mara was waiting with her laptop open.
“We have a problem.”
“Only one?”
“Ethan circulated signature pages at seven forty-two.”
Vivian’s stomach tightened.
“For the reorganization?”
“Preliminary asset-transfer documents.”
“Can he execute?”
“Some. Not all.”
“To Celeste?”
“To the new holding entity. She controls operating authority under the proposed structure.”
Vivian sat.
“George?”
“Still undecided.”
“Who else?”
“Margaret is leaning our way. Stephen wants the audit completed. Arun won’t vote without seeing the underlying emails.”
“We don’t have them.”
“We have some.”
Mara turned the laptop.
An email chain filled the screen.
Celeste to Peter.
Ethan copied.
The language was bland.
Need to keep relationship disclosure narrow until HMH transition.
Peter’s reply:
Audit will ask.
Ethan:
Then answer what’s asked.
Vivian read it twice.
“That’s not enough.”
“No.”
“Why show me?”
“Because Peter’s lawyer produced it forty minutes ago.”
“Anything else?”
“Not yet.”
Vivian stood.
“Then we wait.”
Mara closed the laptop.
“There’s another issue.”
Vivian looked at her.
“Ethan knows Peter produced documents.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
May you like
That frightened her more than the email.
Someone on the process had talked.
