Chapter 5 - The Web TightensGrant stumbled backward out of the empty Harrington manor, slamming into the doorframe as the reality of the trap began to close around his throat.
It wasn't just a messy divorce. It was a calculated, multi-year trap.
Claire hadn't been "ignoring the price of peace" for the last three years. She had been building a case. Every time he stayed late at the office, every time he showered her with guilt-gifts, every time he lied about a business trip—she had logged it. She had quietly partnered with corporate forensic accountants, private investigators, and federal tax attorneys while he was busy playing the successful, untouchable real-estate mogul.
And Natalie... sweet, oblivious Natalie... had been playing for the other team the entire time.
Grant felt a surge of incandescent rage. He got back into his Bentley, slamming the door so hard the rearview mirror shuddered. He punched the steering wheel, screaming curses into the empty leather cabin until his throat was raw.
His phone buzzed on the passenger seat.
It wasn't a call. It was a push notification from The Wall Street Journal financial news app, flashing across his screen in bold red letters:
BREAKING: Whitmore Urban Holdings Stock Plummets 34% After Federal Investigation Launched Into Embezzlement Allegations.
Grant stared at the screen, paralyzed.
The federal investigation. They didn't just have civil divorce papers. They had turned over his corporate books to the DOJ.
His phone buzzed again. An incoming call from his primary investor, billionaire hedge-fund titan Viktor Vance.
Grant swiped to answer, his voice cracking. "Viktor, listen to me, it's a smear campaign, my wife—"
"You're done, Grant," Viktor’s voice cut through like a razor blade, cold and devoid of any human warmth. "The board has already voted in an emergency session five minutes ago. You've been stripped of your CEO title, your corporate cards have been frozen, and federal agents are currently securing your office at Midtown. Don't bother coming into the city tomorrow. If you know what's good for you, you'll hire a very good criminal defense attorney."
Click.
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The line went dead.
Grant sat in the pitch-black car, the rain drumming a frantic rhythm against the roof, while his multi-million-dollar empire dissolved into ash in less than three hours.
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