Chapter 9 - Stripped Down
Grant lost what little sanity he had left. Pushing past investors and society matrons, he stormed toward the bottom of the staircase just as Nadine and Roman reached the floor.
"Nadine!" Grant bellowed, his voice cracking with desperation and fury. "What is the meaning of this charade?"
Security moved to intercept, but Roman raised a single finger, halting them. He wanted this.
Nadine stopped, looking at Grant as if he were an uninvited panhandler on the street. "Good evening, Grant."
"You think you can embarrass me in front of the entire country and just walk into this gala on the arm of a criminal?" Grant spat, pointing a trembling finger in her face. "Look at you! You're wearing diamonds bought with blood money! You think Thorne actually wants you? You’re a fat, desperate heiress whose father was on his knees! When he’s done humiliating me through you, he’ll throw you out on the street!"
A horrified hush blanketed the room. Several women gasped in disgust.
Roman stepped forward. The sheer aura of death radiating off him made Grant instinctively step back, his spine slamming against a marble column.
"Finish that thought, Sterling," Roman said softly, his voice dangerously smooth. "Please. I want everyone in this room to hear the last words you ever speak with all your teeth."
Grant began to shake, sweat pouring down his collar.
Nadine stepped in front of Roman, gently touching his chest. Roman paused, yielding the floor to her.
She looked at Grant with pure pity. "You called me fat, Grant, because you thought my body was the only thing keeping me trapped with you. You thought if you broke my spirit, I’d never look closely at the books. But I did look."
Nadine reached into her beaded clutch and pulled out a sleek flash drive, handing it directly to the head of the SEC task force who was standing quietly in the crowd.
"Grant Sterling didn't just embezzle from his family," Nadine said, her voice ringing clearly across the ballroom. "He set up shell companies under Camille’s maiden name in the Cayman Islands, siphoning forty million dollars from pension funds. The passwords, transaction ledgers, and wire transfers are all on that drive."
Camille shrieked. "What?! You told me those accounts were for our wedding fund!"
"Shut up! Shut up!" Grant lunged toward Nadine, completely unhinged.
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Before he could take two steps, Roman’s fist moved with blinding speed. The crack of bone echoed through the ballroom as Roman’s fist collided with Grant’s nose, sending the former CEO crashing into a table of champagne towers. Glass and golden wine rained down over him like a waterfall.
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