Chapter 10 - Cracks in the Facade
The board members didn't wait for a formal debate. Within twenty minutes, in an emergency executive session held directly in front of the stunned press corps, the board voted unanimously to terminate Michael Carter as Chief Executive Officer and Chairman of Carter Vanguard, effective immediately, citing gross moral turpitude and breach of fiduciary duty.
By three that afternoon, Michael was escorted out of the building by building security, permitted to carry only a single cardboard box containing his personal desk ornaments. The stock price had crashed forty-two percent, wiped clean of four billion dollars in market cap, before trading was halted by the New York Stock Exchange.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the corner office that had once belonged to him. The desk was clear. The family photos—the ones where he had smiled so handsomely beside me while secretly calculating how to rob me—were already shredded in the recycling bin.
The private office door swung open.
Michael walked in, unannounced, having bypassed the lobby using an old emergency executive elevator key that hadn't yet been deactivated. He looked completely unhinged. His tie was gone, his collar torn open, his eyes wild and bloodshot like a cornered animal.
"You think you won, don't you?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of rage and hysteria. "You think you’re so pure, Olivia. The noble Sinclair heiress who brought down the bad man."
I didn't turn around. I kept looking at the city below, watching the endless stream of cars moving along the freeway like red and white blood cells.
"You destroyed four billion dollars of shareholder value just to spite me," Michael hissed, taking slow, deliberate steps toward my back. "You ruined Chloe. You ruined me. Do you really think I don't have anything left to hit you with?"
"You have nothing left, Michael," I said coldly. "Your personal assets are frozen under the divorce injunction. Your offshore accounts in Nevis and Grand Cayman have been flagged by the IRS for international money laundering. You are facing twenty years in federal prison for securities fraud."
"I have the truth about Lily," he snarled.
My entire body went rigid. The breath locked in my throat, ice water flooding my veins.
I turned around slowly, fixing my eyes on him. "What did you say?"
A grotesque, triumphant smile twisted Michael’s face. He leaned against the mahogany desk, crossing his arms, enjoying the sudden terror that had paralyzed me.
"You thought Lily died of a congenital heart arrhythmia, didn't you?" Michael whispered, his eyes glinting with pure, unadulterated evil. "You spent six months blaming yourself, wondering if your genetics failed her. Wondering if that cold you caught during your second trimester caused a heart defect."
"Michael... what did you do?" My voice was barely a rasp, my hands balling into fists so tight my nails cut into my palms.
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"I didn't do anything," Michael laughed softly, a sound that made my skin crawl. "Chloe did. Three weeks before Lily died, Chloe wanted to make sure your baby wouldn't inherit the Vanguard trust shares. She visited the house while you were at your exhibition in San Francisco. She spent two hours alone with the night nurse."
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