…the foundations of the new Sterling Wing at the children’s hospital.”
Julian’s smirk froze. The haughty amusement in his eyes instantly morphed into a sharp, panicked confusion. He glanced at his high-priced bulldog of a lawyer, who was already reaching for the folder, but Julian’s hand slammed down on it first.
“What is this, Elena?” he snapped, his voice losing its polished, aristocratic drawl.
“Just a little hobby I picked up to pass the time while you were busy with your… late-night board meetings,” I said smoothly, leaning back in the plush leather chair. “You always told me I should take more of an interest in the family business.”
I watched the color drain from his face as he flipped open the cover. Inside weren’t just bank statements. There were copies of the encrypted ledgers he thought he had deleted. There were dated, high-resolution photographs of the hospital construction site at 3:00 AM—the exact night his former CFO, Marcus, supposedly “fled the country” with millions in embezzled funds. And most damning of all, there were the offshore routing numbers proving those funds actually went straight into Julian’s personal shell companies.
“You’re insane,” he hissed, though his trembling hands betrayed his fear. “This is forged. It’s garbage.”
“The District Attorney won’t think so,” I replied, standing up and smoothing the skirt of my dress. “Neither will the FBI. I CC’d them on an email with the digital copies exactly five minutes before I walked into this office. I imagine they are securing a warrant for the ground-penetrating radar as we speak.”
The lawyer, catching on to the catastrophic shift in power, finally snatched a document from the folder. His eyes widened behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Julian,” he whispered, horrified. “This is… you signed these transfer orders.”
“You wanted me to disappear, Julian? Consider it done,” I said, my voice echoing in the dead silence of the boardroom. “I don’t want a dime of your pitiful settlement. I just wanted my freedom, and the absolute pleasure of watching your empire burn to the ground.”
I turned on my heel and walked toward the heavy oak doors.
“Elena!” Julian shouted, his chair scraping violently against the floor. “Wait! We can renegotiate! Name your price! Anything!”
I didn’t even look back as I pushed the doors open. “My price was your loyalty, Julian. Since you couldn’t afford that, this one is on the house.”
I stepped onto the private elevator, the doors sliding shut on his frantic, echoing pleas. As the car descended to the lobby, I pulled out my phone, blocked his number, and stepped out into the bustling city streets. The air had never tasted so sweet.
