Chương 7
“Neither did Madison.”
Another pause.
This one was longer.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Come on.”
“Were you involved in closing the vendor review in March?”
Malcolm exhaled.
“We’re talking about this now?”
“Yes.”
“You were recovering from surgery. You delegated it.”
“I approved closing it at ten-forty-two at night while I had a postoperative infection.”
“You approved dozens of things.”
“That week?”
Malcolm did not answer immediately.
Adrian looked through the window.
A delivery truck was trying to turn around beyond the security gate because someone had forgotten to suspend routine deliveries.
Normal life, stubbornly arriving.
“Adrian,” Malcolm said, “I am not going to have a corporate compliance conversation while you’re accusing your wife of trying to kill you.”
“I haven’t accused her of trying to kill me.”
“It’s everywhere.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“What difference does that make?”
Quite a lot, Adrian thought.
“I’ll have outside counsel contact you.”
“Outside counsel?”
“Yes.”
“Are you investigating me?”
“I’m investigating a review that should never have been closed.”
Malcolm’s voice hardened.
“This is exactly what people are worried about.”
“What?”
“You making executive decisions in the middle of a personal crisis.”
Adrian’s hand closed around the phone.
There it was.
Not proof.
Not even close.
But a line had moved.
“People?”
“The board.”
“The board can speak for itself.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re trying to protect the company from me. That’s different.”
“You’re not hearing yourself.”
Adrian almost responded.
Then he stopped.
There were traps that existed only because pride insisted on stepping into them.
“I’ll have counsel call.”
He ended the call.
His hand shook afterward.
Part of it was anger.
Part of it was physical fatigue.
Part of it was fear he had just heard exactly what he expected to hear and would now force every fact into that shape.
He called Detective Torres.
“I may have a name.”
“That isn’t the same as evidence.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“I’d like you to say that less.”
“I’d like you to speculate less.”
He almost told her he paid people well not to speak to him like this.
Then he remembered Claire.
Instead he said, “Fair.”
The outside forensic review of the company began that afternoon.
Adrian did not lead it.
That was harder than standing.
Independent counsel retained financial specialists, secured records, and limited what Adrian could see during the early stage because his own actions might eventually be examined.
He objected.
They ignored him.
He respected them more for it.
The first material finding arrived five days later.
Three vendors from the halted review shared indirect financial connections that had not been disclosed to Cole Meridian.
The structure was complicated enough that Adrian read the summary twice and still asked for a diagram.
More troubling was the approval trail.
Several questionable extensions occurred during the months when Adrian was most heavily medicated.
Some carried his electronic authorization.
Others had been approved under temporary authority granted to Malcolm Voss.
The total money involved was significant.
Not enough to destroy the company.
Enough to destroy careers.
Adrian asked, “Does this prove Malcolm stole anything?”
The forensic lawyer said, “No.”
“Does it prove he benefited?”
“We have evidence of undisclosed connections. We do not yet have a complete flow of funds.”
“Then don’t tell the board he stole.”
Sam Leighton stared at him across the conference room.
“You’re defending him?”
“I’m defending the distinction.”
Sam’s expression softened.
Adrian disliked that too.
He had joined the meeting remotely from home. His wheelchair was visible on camera, deliberately.
The communications team had suggested framing him from the chest up.
He had refused.
He was tired of making vulnerability invisible whenever it threatened other people’s confidence.
Afterward, Claire called.
“You did well.”
“Don’t sound surprised.”
“I’m not surprised. I’m relieved.”
“Worse.”
She laughed.
He heard papers moving on her desk.
Then her tone changed.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Madison visited headquarters six times while you were in rehab.”
Adrian stared at the screen.
“She came to see me.”
“Not according to visitor logs.”
“Who did she see?”
“Malcolm.”
His mouth went dry.
“How do you know?”
“She used the executive garage. Security logs entry. His assistant scheduled private blocks the same days.”
“Maybe she was picking up documents.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say maybe like it means obviously not.”
Claire was quiet.
“You’re right.”
He hated the fact that he had become the person defending alternative explanations.
Or perhaps he was finally becoming the person who should have existed all along.
That night Sophie ate grilled cheese at the kitchen island while Adrian reviewed physical therapy exercises.
His therapist, Daniel Cho, stood beside him with arms crossed.
“You’re compensating with your right side.”
“I’m standing.”
“You’re cheating.”
“I prefer innovating.”
“You’re going to prefer falling in about ten seconds.”
Sophie looked up from her sandwich.
“He does that at work too.”
Daniel smiled.
Adrian stared at her.
“What exactly have you been told about my management style?”
“Aunt Rachel says you think rules are for other people.”
From the refrigerator Rachel called, “Accurate.”
Adrian lowered himself back into the wheelchair.
His left leg trembled.
Daniel crouched to inspect his foot position.
“You’re improving. That does not mean you were secretly capable of walking around normally for months.”
“I know.”
“I’m saying that because the media has decided your standing was some kind of reveal.”
“I’m aware.”
One headline had called it THE BILLIONAIRE WHO ROSE FROM HIS WHEELCHAIR TO STOP HIS WIFE.
Adrian hated every word of it, including billionaire, which was technically defensible and emotionally vulgar.
Another outlet implied he had exaggerated his disability.
That one hurt.
He pretended it did not.
Sophie tore the crust off her sandwich.
“Can we tell them you still need the chair?”
Rachel said, “We don’t talk to reporters.”
“They’re lying.”
“Sometimes people get things wrong because they don’t know everything.”
“They should ask.”
May you like
Adrian looked at her.
“Yes,” he said. “They should.”
