Chapter 12 - The Boardroom Execution
“She’s lying!” Richard screamed, his face turning an alarming shade of purple as he lunged toward the table, only to be stopped by the two federal marshals flanking him. “She’s trying to destroy me because of a marital argument! Because of a viral video! She’s framing me!”
“Sit down, Mr. Mercer!” Arthur Sterling commanded.
I opened the top dossier and began reading with calm, devastating precision.
“Over forty-four million dollars diverted through Blue Meridian Consulting,” I stated, projecting my voice across the room. “Signed off by you under forged project codes. Sixteen million laundered into Zurich accounts under Daniel Cross’s nominee signature. Two point four million attempted transfer halted just yesterday morning.”
I turned a page, looking up at Richard.
“Daniel Cross has already delivered a complete sworn confession and handed over the master decryption keys. The United States Attorney’s Office has already frozen your accounts in Switzerland, the Caymans, and New York. You don't have a single dollar left, Richard. And you will never set foot in this industry again.”
Richard turned his desperate, bloodshot eyes toward Daniel. “Daniel! Tell them she’s lying! Tell them you forged those documents!”
Daniel slowly raised his head, tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry, Rich. It’s over. They have everything. They’ve had everything from the beginning.”
Richard’s knees buckled. He grabbed the edge of a chair to keep from collapsing onto the floor. The man who had strutted through the gala seventy-two hours earlier, boasting about his untouchable authority, had been reduced to a shivering, broken shell.
“Clara...” Richard gasped, his voice cracking into a desperate plea. “Clara, please. We’re husband and wife. Seven years! We built a life together! You can’t do this to me... please... let’s talk in private!”
I stood up slowly, picking up a pen and looking down at him from across the table.
“Three days ago, Richard, you leaned into my ear and told me to know my place,” I said softly, every word ringing with crystalline finality. “This is my place. At the head of the table, holding the pen that ends your reign.”
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I turned to the lead federal prosecutor. “Counselor, the evidence package is complete. The Board of Directors officially hands this matter over to the Department of Justice.”
The federal marshals stepped forward, clicking a pair of cold steel handcuffs around Richard Mercer’s wrists.
