Chapter 2
The silence that followed was louder than any scream.
Ethan’s mouth opened and closed.
No sound came out.
The chairman, Harold Bennett, stepped forward.
His face was stone.
“Is this true, Ethan?”
Ethan finally found his voice, but it cracked.
“Harold, I—this is a misunderstanding. Emily and I—we’ve been having some marital problems, that’s all.”
“Marital problems don’t explain why you’ve been representing Whitmore Capital as a personal contact for the last three years.”
My father’s voice was ice.
He didn’t raise it.
He never did.
That was what made him terrifying.
“Every major client you brought in, every partnership you sealed—you dropped my name in private meetings. You let them believe you had my backing. You traded on my family’s reputation to build your own.”
Ethan stepped back like he’d been slapped.
“That’s not—”
“We have the meeting minutes,” Harold said. “We have the emails. We have the recorded calls from the Dubai trip where you explicitly stated Charles Whitmore would personally guarantee the investment.”
I looked at Ethan.
Truly looked at him.
The man I’d married had vanished.
In his place stood a stranger who’d been wearing my husband’s face for a decade.
Madison stood up slowly.
Her confidence was cracking.
“I didn’t know about any of this,” she said quickly. “I was just his secretary.”
My father turned to her.
His eyes were cold.
“You were on the Dubai trip, Miss Price. You sent half those emails from your work account. You helped him forge the authorization letters on Whitmore Capital letterhead.”
Madison went white.
“I was following orders!”
“Embezzlement and fraud don’t have a ‘following orders’ defense,” Harold said.
He looked at Ethan.
“The managing director position is withdrawn. Effective immediately, you are suspended without pay pending a full audit. Security will escort you from the building tomorrow morning to collect your personal items. Your company credit cards are frozen as of this minute.”
Ethan reached for Harold’s arm.
“Harold, please—ten years. I gave this company ten years.”
“You gave this company nothing,” my father said. “Everything you achieved was stolen from my daughter’s name. She built you. And now I’m going to watch you burn.”
The other executives were watching.
Every single one of them.
People Ethan had dined with. Golfed with. Called friends.
None of them moved to help him.
Madison grabbed her purse.
“I’m not going down for this,” she muttered and walked away fast.
She didn’t look back.
Not once.
Ethan watched her leave, then turned to me.
His eyes were wild.
“Emily. Baby. Please. Tell them it’s not true. Tell your father I never meant—”
“Get away from her.”
My father stepped between us.
Two large men in dark suits appeared from nowhere.
Security.
They’d been waiting by the door this whole time.
“Mr. Carter,” one of them said. “We’ll escort you out.”
Ethan didn’t fight.
He couldn’t.
He looked at me over my father’s shoulder as they led him away.
His mouth formed one word.
Sorry.
I didn’t feel anything.
Not anger.
Not sadness.
Just hollow.
Like someone had reached inside my chest and scooped out ten years of my life with a spoon.
“Emily.”
My father touched my arm gently.
The hardness in his voice melted away.
“Are you all right?”
I looked at the table.
Two half-drunk glasses of wine.
Ethan’s napkin folded neatly beside his plate.
The reservation card for our tenth anniversary dinner three days from now.
He’d booked this table to dump me.
He’d brought his mistress to our anniversary restaurant.
“He planned this,” I said quietly.
My father followed my gaze.
His jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“Did you know about the fraud before tonight?”
“I suspected something six weeks ago when the Dubai deal numbers didn’t line up. I started digging. I only confirmed the full extent an hour ago. I was on my way to your apartment when I tracked his phone here.”
He paused.
“I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you sooner. I just didn’t want to believe the man you married was capable of this.”
I nodded slowly.
I should have been crying.
Screaming.
Breaking something.
Instead I felt strangely calm.
May you like
Like the worst thing in the world had already happened and there was nothing left to fear.
“Take me home, Dad.”
