Chapter 9 - THE ACCOUNTS GO DARK
At 12:47 a.m., Julian’s financial world began disappearing.
His corporate credit card was declined at the lobby bar.
His company aircraft privileges were canceled.
His executive vehicle was returned to the fleet.
His memberships at three private clubs were suspended because Aurelia had paid the fees.
Even the townhouse he called his Manhattan residence belonged to a Marlowe holding company.
Julian stood in the boardroom reading alert after alert.
“This is personal retaliation,” he said.
Margaret replied without looking up.
“This is the separation of company property from a terminated executive.”
“My clothes are in the townhouse.”
“They will be inventoried.”
“My art collection is there.”
“Ownership records will determine which pieces are yours.”
“My accounts cannot be frozen.”
“Personal accounts remain open.”
He checked his banking application.
The largest account showed a balance of twelve thousand dollars.
The rest had belonged to Aurelia-linked entities.
Julian had spent years measuring his wealth by what he could access.
He had never considered whether access meant ownership.
Celeste was brought into the boardroom to confirm the shell-company information.
Her attorney had arrived.
She no longer wore my coat.
She sat far from Julian.
The forensic team displayed a network of transfers.
Money moved from resort renovation budgets into consulting firms.
Those firms paid companies registered in the Caribbean.
The final accounts were controlled by Celeste.
“I did not manage them,” she said.
“Julian had the passwords.”
Julian leaned back.
“She is lying to save herself.”
Celeste turned toward him.
“You told me the money was yours.”
“It was.”
“It belonged to the company.”
“I was the company.”
My father studied him with visible disappointment.
“That sentence explains everything.”
The specialist opened another file.
Several transfers had been approved by Harold Vance.
Julian’s ally had not merely known about the scheme.
He had participated.
Margaret received a message and whispered to my father.
Then she addressed Julian.
“Federal financial investigators have been notified.”
Raymond Cole stood.
“My client will not answer further questions.”
Julian stared at him.
“Sit down.”
“I advise you to remain silent.”
“I hired you.”
“The company hired my firm.”
The final illusion broke across Julian’s face.
Even his attorney did not belong to him.
Raymond collected his papers and moved to the opposite side of the room to confer with the board.
Julian was left alone.
At 1:15 a.m., he turned to me.
“You cannot erase nine years.”
“I am not trying to.”
“You would have nothing without me.”
“I had the land before you.”
“I built the brand.”
“I created the designs.”
“I negotiated the acquisitions.”
“I took the risks.”
“With my family’s money.”
He stepped closer.
“We were partners.”
“We were supposed to be.”
His voice dropped.
“Elena, I can explain Celeste.”
May you like
I looked at the woman he had placed in my bed and the financial records he had hidden in my company.
“You still think Celeste is the worst thing you did.”
