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Chương 10

The judge asked Hunter why he required eighty thousand dollars per month.

His attorney described mortgages, insurance, security, and professional costs.

The judge looked over her glasses.

“Mr. Reed is currently unemployed, correct?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened.

“Yes, Your Honor,” his attorney said.

“Then certain lifestyle adjustments may be appropriate.”

Kylie looked down before Hunter could see the reaction in her face.

The judge continued the asset restrictions, authorized specific monthly expenses, and ordered both parties to preserve all devices and financial records.

Outside the courtroom, reporters waited behind barriers.

Mara guided Kylie toward a side exit.

Hunter caught up before security stopped him.

“Kylie.”

She turned.

His attorney touched his arm, warning him.

Hunter remained several feet away.

For a second, neither spoke.

Without the dining room and family and papers between them, he looked like the man who used to wait for her outside dental appointments because she hated the sound of drills.

“You look tired,” he said.

It was such an ordinary marital observation that Kylie nearly lost her balance.

“So do you.”

His eyes moved to her bare hand.

“Mabel okay?”

“Yes.”

“She misses me.”

“Yes.”

“Can I see her?”

“Talk to Mara.”

Pain crossed his face.

“You don’t have to make everything legal.”

“You made my signature legal.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

His attorney said his name quietly.

Hunter ignored her.

“Did Isabelle give you the messages?”

“Yes.”

“She left out context.”

“What context makes the fertility clinic acceptable?”

He glanced toward the reporters.

“Not here.”

“There is nowhere I want to hear it.”

“She told me you knew we were separating.”

Kylie stared at him.

Hunter’s voice dropped.

“I told her you knew.”

“You told her a lie about me and now you’re offering it as evidence against her?”

“I’m trying to explain how it happened.”

“No. You’re deciding which woman should carry more of your blame.”

His face hardened.

“You canceled ten million dollars before asking me one question.”

“I read your answers.”

“I was trying to save the company.”

“You bought a condo.”

“It was an investment property.”

“With a bedroom designed in the purchase plans as a nursery?”

Hunter’s expression changed.

Kylie had learned that detail from the condominium documents two days earlier. The developer’s customization form listed one bedroom with built-in nursery cabinetry and pale green wall covering.

Hunter looked away.

“You don’t know everything,” he said.

“Neither do you.”

She walked toward the exit.

He called after her.

“Your father will take Northline.”

Kylie stopped.

Hunter’s attorney closed her eyes briefly.

“What does that mean?” Kylie asked.

He looked at her again.

“He canceled the investment so the company would default. Then he’ll buy the assets cheap through restructuring.”

Kylie felt the accusation enter the part of her mind that still trusted nothing.

“Do you have evidence?”

“Ask him.”

Hunter’s attorney pulled him away before he could say more.

In the car, Mara watched Kylie.

“You’re considering it.”

“My father is reviewing an asset purchase.”

“That does not prove premeditation.”

“No.”

“But?”

“But Hunter knows how Dad invests.”

“Hunter also knows how to make a partial truth contagious.”

Kylie looked out the window.

She called Arthur from Mara’s office.

“Did you intend to buy Northline after canceling the investment?”

Her father was silent for two seconds.

“We are evaluating whether to finance a restructuring.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No.”

“Did you know cancellation would trigger a default?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know the default could let your fund acquire assets at a discount?”

“Yes.”

Kylie closed her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you are not on the investment committee.”

“I brought you the evidence.”

“And I acted on it.”

“Are you profiting from my divorce?”

Arthur’s voice sharpened.

“No.”

“Could you profit?”

“Yes.”

Mara leaned against her desk, arms folded.

Kylie gripped the phone.

“Then Hunter was right.”

“About one fact. Not its meaning.”

“Explain the meaning.”

“If Northline enters restructuring, someone may finance it. That party will require control and favorable terms because the risk is significant. We may participate. We may not. We will not act without an independent committee because of the conflict.”

“You formed a committee?”

“This morning.”

“After the hearing?”

“Before.”

Kylie wanted to believe him. That was the problem with love and betrayal: belief itself began to feel like a character flaw.

“Would you have canceled if Hunter had not cheated?”

“If I had received the same evidence of financial misconduct? Yes.”

“What if I had not brought it?”

“We might have funded. Then discovered the problem later and lost more.”

“So I saved your fund.”

“You protected investors from a material omission.”

“Your investors.”

“Teachers’ pensions. University endowments. A hospital foundation. Not a vault of family cash.”

Kylie knew that. Hunter often pretended not to.

“Recuse yourself,” she said.

“I already have.”

“Completely.”

“Yes.”

“And do not call anyone on the committee.”

Arthur’s pause was nearly imperceptible.

“Kylie—”

“Completely.”

“All right.”

She ended the call.

Mara nodded.

“That was wise.”

“I don’t feel wise.”

“Wise decisions rarely feel as good as winning.”

The independent committee ultimately declined to purchase Northline’s assets.

The company’s customer contracts were valuable, but the debt burden and reputational damage made a full acquisition too risky. Instead, Mercer Family Capital offered a limited emergency loan conditioned on Hunter relinquishing all voting rights, the appointment of a restructuring officer, and outside supervision of every significant payment.

The terms were severe.

Northline’s board accepted them because the alternative was immediate bankruptcy and likely liquidation.

Hunter fought through his attorneys, arguing that his founder shares could not be stripped without due process.

The board invoked provisions in the financing agreements he had signed months earlier.

For once, the documents he treated as tools against others closed around him.

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Northline survived, but not intact.

Twenty-two employees were laid off. Two offices closed. Executive bonuses were canceled. A major client delayed renewal. The company changed its name six months later to NLS Secure and abandoned the ambitious expansion Hunter had planned.

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