Chương 16
“So the company survives.”
“Temporarily.”
“And Julian?”
Another silence.
“The board placed him on administrative leave effective immediately.”
I stared at the dark windows.
“Before sunrise.”
“Yes.”
The original humiliation in our foyer returned to me with almost embarrassing clarity.
His suit.
Chloe’s necklace.
The way he had looked at my sleeves.
I had imagined revenge then, perhaps without admitting it.
Now that consequences had arrived, revenge felt smaller than I expected.
“What happens to him?”
“That depends on what investigators find.”
“Criminal charges?”
“Maybe.”
Dad’s voice became careful.
“Don’t leap there.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
“What about Helix?”
“Transactions frozen.”
“Chloe?”
“She turned over the drive through her attorney.”
“Did it help?”
“Yes.”
Dad hesitated.
“More than she probably realizes.”
“What was Project Harbor?”
“A plan to transfer revenue-producing software rights into Helix, use those rights to secure financing, and later sell Helix into a rescue transaction.”
I frowned.
“Sell it to Apex?”
“That appears to have been one option.”
“Meaning Julian would have controlled both sides.”
“Indirectly.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is not a sentence I would put in a prospectus.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
Then the smile faded.
“Did he forge Stephen Kline’s approval?”
“We don’t know.”
“Chloe said documents were altered.”
“She was right.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
“Dates were changed after the fact.”
“By Julian?”
“We don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because knowing and suspecting are different jobs.”
That sounded like the father I remembered from conference rooms.
Precise when everyone else wanted certainty.
“What do we know?”
“We know Julian concealed the severity of Cross Meridian’s cash problem longer than he should have.”
“We know he controlled Helix.”
“Yes.”
“We know he ordered Chloe to remove Harbor from her laptop.”
“Yes.”
“And the payroll collateral?”
“His signature is there.”
I looked at the cold coffee on the table.
“He signed away payroll.”
“He pledged an account connected to payroll.”
“That distinction will matter to lawyers.”
“It should matter to you too.”
I hated that he was right.
“Was he trying to steal money?”
“We found no evidence of that.”
The answer surprised me.
“No personal transfers?”
“Nothing identified tonight.”
“No offshore account?”
“This isn’t television.”
I let out a breath that almost became a laugh.
“So he really was trying to save the company.”
“Possibly.”
“By lying.”
“Yes.”
“By hiding assets.”
“Potentially.”
“By risking everyone’s paychecks.”
“Yes.”
Dad’s voice softened.
“People can do terrible things while telling themselves they are protecting something.”
The sentence sat between us.
I thought of my marriage.
Of three years spent protecting the idea that choosing Julian had not been a mistake.
Every silence had seemed reasonable while I was making it.
“Where is he now?”
“At Cross Meridian headquarters with independent counsel.”
“Can he leave?”
“He’s not under arrest.”
“Right.”
“Clarissa.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to see him today.”
I looked at the dress beside me.
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I said I would.”
“That is not a reason.”
“It is to me.”
Dad sighed.
“You get that from your mother.”
“This time you can say it.”
He laughed softly.
“I’ll send a car.”
“No.”
“You’re becoming difficult again.”
“Good.”
I hung up before he could argue.
At seven fifteen, I returned to Shaker Heights in a rideshare.
The mansion looked exactly as it had the night before.
That offended me more than if police tape had been wrapped around the columns.
Mrs. Martha opened the door before I reached it.
She was still in her slippers.
“You came back.”
“For a few things.”
Her eyes moved to my dress.
“You wore it.”
“I did.”
“How was the gala?”
I considered the question.
“Busy.”
She laughed suddenly, then covered her mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She followed me upstairs.
I packed one suitcase.
Not because one suitcase contained my life.
Because taking everything felt like pretending I knew what came next.
Jeans.
Sweaters.
Shoes.
My mother’s cards.
The red velvet box.
I left the wedding china, the framed vacation photographs, and the coffee maker Julian had bought me for Christmas.
Mrs. Martha stood in the doorway.
“Will you come back?”
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
Then she pointed to the navy dress.
“Do you want me to fix that sleeve?”
I looked at the safety pin.
“Yes.”
She took the dress.
Neither of us mentioned that I might never wear it again.
At eight thirty, Julian came home.
He entered without his jacket.
His tie was gone.
There were gray shadows beneath his eyes.
He stopped when he saw the suitcase.
“So you meant it.”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Martha disappeared toward the laundry room without being asked.
Julian stood near the bottom of the stairs.
“The board fired me.”
“I heard administrative leave.”
“They’ll make it termination by noon.”
He laughed without humor.
“Everett withdrew Apex entirely.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked genuinely startled.
“For what?”
“For the employees who have to live through this.”
His face closed.
“Not for me.”
“I don’t know what I feel for you.”
“That’s convenient.”
Anger rose, then passed.
“You’re allowed to be angry.”
His mouth twisted.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean it as permission.”
He sat on the bottom stair.
For once, he did not look like the owner of the house.
He looked like a man who had forgotten where chairs were.
“I thought I could fix Northline.”
“I know.”
“I should have disclosed the losses sooner.”
“Yes.”
“I kept waiting for one contract to close.”
I sat across from him on the foyer bench.
“And when it didn’t?”
“I borrowed.”
“And when that wasn’t enough?”
“I created Helix.”
“And when that wasn’t enough?”
He looked at the floor.
“I started moving things.”
There was no point pretending not to understand.
“Did you forge Kline’s signature?”
His eyes rose.
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
“I have a suspicion.”
“Who?”
“Daniel Reeves.”
His chief financial officer.
“Why?”
“Because he controlled the document process.”
“Did you tell investigators?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have proof?”
May you like
“No.”
“Then don’t turn him into your Chloe.”
