Chapter 6
At eight o’clock the next morning, the board auditorium of Whitmore Capital was packed to capacity with Wall Street titans, legal counsel, and hedge fund managers.
Whispers tore through the room the moment Ethan and I walked through the double mahogany doors.
I was no longer the quiet florist in oversized knitwear. I wore a tailored emerald dress, diamond studs, and my chin held high, my hand firmly locked in Ethan’s.
At the far end of the boardroom table sat Richard Whitmore, looking smug, with Victoria sitting right behind him as his designated corporate liaison.
“Ethan,” Richard began, his tone dripping with patronizing pity. “I heard about the unfortunate incident downtown. Tragic. Perhaps your bride would be more comfortable resting at home while the grown-ups conduct business.”
“My wife stays,” Ethan said coldly, pulling out the chair directly to his right. “She holds legal co-signatory power over my grandfather’s trust assets. That means she has three percent of the personal voting block in her own name as of seven this morning.”
Victoria’s smirk slipped. She leaned forward, whispering frantically into Richard’s ear.
Richard scowled, slapping a stack of paper onto the mahogany. “That trust stipulates that the marriage must be entered in good faith, not as a fraudulent instrument to manipulate corporate succession! We have grounds to challenge the legitimacy of this union.”
“On what grounds, Richard?” Ethan asked calmly, leaning back in his leather chair.
Victoria stood up, smoothing her designer pencil skirt. Her voice was pure silk, pitched for the room. “On the grounds that Claire Summers was paid off. We have bank transfers demonstrating a five-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit made to Wild June's accounts two days before City Hall. Ethan bought her compliance.”
The room erupted into gasps. Board members leaned toward each other, muttering furiously.
My heart stopped. I turned to look at Ethan. *A five-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit?*
Ethan didn’t flinch. “Show the records, Victoria.”
Victoria confidently plugged a flash drive into the projector console. A banking ledger flashed across the massive digital screens lining the wall.
Sure enough, there was an incoming transfer of half a million dollars to Wild June’s commercial account.
“As you can see,” Victoria purred, “this was an explicit financial transaction disguised as a romantic partnership. Under New York corporate probate law, the shares cannot vest under fraudulent contracts.”
Richard smiled victoriously. “The motion to disqualify Ethan’s controlling voting block is now active. All in favor—”
“Before you vote,” I said, my voice cutting cleanly through the murmur of the room.
Every eye turned to me.
I stood up, resting my palms flat against the polished wood.
“You might want to check the routing origin on that transfer, Miss Ashford.”
Victoria blinked, a flicker of panic darting across her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Ethan didn't send that money,” I said, drawing a folded document from my leather portfolio. “That transfer came from an offshore account registered under *Ashford Holdings Luxembourg*. You deposited that money yourself forty-eight hours ago through an automated escrow hack to frame my business.”
The room went dead silent.
May you like
“And unlike your forged financial filings,” I continued, looking straight into Victoria’s widening eyes, “I have the federal forensic trace authorized by the SEC two hours ago.”
***
