Chapter 6 - The Audit of a LiarMonday morning brought no sunlight into Nathan’s world—only the harsh, unforgiving glare of federal investigators and forensic accountants.
While Nathan sat frozen in his downtown penthouse—locked out of his accounts, his corporate emails, and his private vehicles—Margaret and I sat in the executive conference room of the Hartwell Trust headquarters on the forty-second floor, overlooking the sprawling skyline of the city.
The double doors swung open, and Arthur Sterling walked in, looking twenty years older than he had on Saturday night. He didn't offer a greeting. He pulled out a chair across from us and sat down heavily.
"Evelyn," Arthur said, his voice gravelly and exhausted. "Our legal team has reviewed the forensic audit Margaret provided. The unauthorized capital transfers Nathan made to Sloane Vale Interiors... they total over six hundred thousand dollars. Not four hundred. Six hundred."
"Nathan was never very good at math when it came to personal indulgence," I replied calmly, sipping my black coffee. "He always assumed the family trust would cover his deficit spending."
"The board has voted unanimously," Arthur continued, sliding a signed resolution across the polished oak table. "Nathan Hartwell has been permanently stripped of his executive title, removed from the operating board, and blacklisted from every venture capital syndicate in the tri-state area. Furthermore... we are joining your family trust’s civil recovery suit."
I looked down at the document. The signature Arthur Sterling, Managing Director was sharp and decisive.
"Thank you, Arthur," I said evenly. "You made the right business decision."
"It wasn't about business, Evelyn," Arthur said, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. "It was about survival. Your grandmother always said a Hartwell never loses a war—they just let the enemy exhaust themselves first."
As Arthur left the room, Margaret leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smirk. "Well, that's the corporate half dismantled. What about the personal front? I hear Sloane Vale has already cleared out her design studio and booked a one-way flight to Miami."
"Let her run," I said, looking out the floor-to-ceiling glass window at the traffic crawling along the avenues below. "Running is expensive, and without Nathan’s corporate backing, she’ll find out very quickly what it means to build a brand without a sugar daddy."
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"And Nathan?" Margaret asked. "He’s filed three emergency motions for temporary spousal support and asset unfreezing. Judge Henderson is reviewing them this afternoon."
I smiled, resting a hand on my coat. "Judge Henderson is an old colleague of my father's. Let’s go see what kind of modern equity Nathan’s motions buy him in a real courtroom."
