Chương 11
Whether he had threatened Julian before the video began.
No.
Whether Adeline had shown distress.
Yes.
How?
Nathan thought of her hands shaking over a piece of bread.
“She tore the invitation.”
“Before or after you decided to confront him?”
“Before.”
“Did she ask you not to?”
“She did not know.”
The attorney made a note.
Nathan realized that answer would be used against both of them.
He finished the interview at eleven fifteen.
His access remained disabled.
Across town, Adeline entered the Cross Aeromedical headquarters through the underground garage despite instructions to work remotely.
Mara walked beside her.
“You understand that remote means not here.”
“I need files.”
“We can have them delivered.”
“I need to see who is occupying my office.”
The executive floor receptionist stood when Adeline arrived.
Relief crossed the young woman’s face before fear replaced it.
“Ms. Cross.”
“Good morning, Jenna.”
“Mr. Price is in your office.”
“I know.”
Daniel Price sat behind Adeline’s desk with three members of the finance team.
He stood quickly.
“Adeline.”
“That is my chair.”
He looked at it, then moved aside.
“I was using the larger screen.”
“The conference room has one.”
“It’s occupied.”
“By whom?”
“Outside auditors.”
Mara glanced at Adeline.
Auditors had not been scheduled.
Adeline walked to the desk.
A stack of printed documents lay beside her keyboard. The top page was a capacity analysis Nathan had prepared six months earlier.
Daniel noticed her looking.
“We’re reviewing operational assumptions.”
“Without the operations director.”
“He is suspended.”
“On paid leave pending an inquiry.”
“That’s what suspended means.”
Adeline touched the report.
Nathan had warned that the proposed expansion depended on warehouse automation not yet tested at Cross’s scale. Daniel’s financial model treated the upgrade as operational after six months. Nathan estimated fourteen.
“Why are auditors here?” Adeline asked.
Daniel glanced at the finance team.
“To evaluate the Ashford proposal.”
“The financing committee meets this afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“Before the board reviews last night’s evidence.”
“The company cannot stop because of a personal incident.”
Adeline looked at him.
Daniel’s face showed no triumph. That made him more dangerous. He believed he was being responsible.
“You think I’m delaying growth because of Julian,” she said.
“I think your history with him complicates objective judgment.”
“My history did not create loading-dock limits.”
“No, but it may explain why every proposal associated with Whitmore Capital receives twice the scrutiny.”
“Every proposal should receive twice the scrutiny when it involves debt secured against our manufacturing facilities.”
Daniel’s voice tightened. “And what is the cost of doing nothing? Our competitors are scaling. Hospital systems want larger supply commitments. We either expand or become a regional supplier with national overhead.”
It was not a foolish argument.
That was what irritated her.
Daniel wanted to protect the company. He also wanted to run it. Those motives could coexist.
Adeline sat in her chair.
“Show me the revised model.”
Mara whispered, “You should not conduct business while on temporary leave.”
“I’m not on leave.”
“The board used different words for legal reasons.”
Daniel remained standing.
“You cannot direct the review,” he said.
Adeline looked at him.
“Then pretend I am a curious visitor.”
For twenty minutes, they examined assumptions.
The Ashford proposal offered enough capital to expand two plants and acquire a smaller distributor. In exchange, Whitmore Capital would receive two board seats, veto rights over major expenditures, and conversion options that could increase its ownership if Cross missed performance targets.
The targets assumed Nathan’s fourteen-month logistics upgrade could be completed in eight.
“Who changed this?” Adeline asked.
Daniel checked the version history.
“The consulting team.”
“Which consulting team?”
He did not answer immediately.
Mara moved closer.
Daniel said, “Whitmore Operational Partners.”
Adeline looked at him.
“You allowed Julian’s affiliate to revise internal projections.”
“They are advising the financing group.”
“They used Nathan’s confidential report.”
“It was provided in the data room.”
“Not that version.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
The report on Adeline’s desk contained handwritten comments from a closed operations committee meeting. One line had been underlined twice: EXECUTIVE RESISTANCE MAY BE PRIMARY BOTTLENECK.
Adeline had written that sentence herself in response to a discussion about Daniel’s timeline.
Only six people had access to the annotated copy.
Mara photographed the page.
Daniel said, “You cannot assume Julian saw this.”
“I can assume someone outside the committee did.”
“Adeline.”
She stood.
“Who uploaded it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
“You are not authorized to direct—”
“Then consider it a request from the founder whose confidential notes are circulating through a bidder’s consulting firm.”
Daniel’s face flushed.
Adeline regretted the sentence as soon as she said it. Not because it was false, but because she had used ownership as a weapon.
She had criticized Julian for doing the same.
“I’ll ask IT,” Daniel said.
“Thank you.”
He gathered his papers and left with the finance team.
Mara closed the office door.
“You enjoyed that.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“For three seconds.”
“That is how corruption begins.”
Adeline stared at the capacity report.
“Someone gave Julian committee notes.”
“Yes.”
“If the expansion misses targets, his conversion rights increase.”
“Yes.”
“He benefits from an impossible schedule.”
“Yes.”
Mara pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling independent counsel.”
“The board’s attorney—”
“Represents the board.”
Adeline looked toward the windows.
Below, trucks moved through the company’s distribution yard. Nathan had redesigned the traffic pattern after a driver nearly backed into a chemical storage area. Yellow lines divided the pavement into careful lanes.
She had approved the paint expenditure after arguing over twelve thousand dollars.
Now the company considered borrowing hundreds of millions based on a timeline its own operations director had rejected.
“Call them,” she said.
At three seventeen, Vivian sent Mara the wedding communications files.
There were seventy-two documents.
Most were ordinary: guest lists, approved photographs, social-media timing, press language, family biographies.
One folder was titled Narrative Risks.
May you like
Inside was a document named A.C. Attendance Scenarios.
Scenario one: Adeline declined to attend. Suggested language described her absence as “understandable given the emotional history.”
