Chapter 5 - The Queen’s GambitThree weeks later, the top floor of the newly christened Bennett Tower—formerly Carter Tower—was bathed in the warm, amber glow of the late afternoon sun.
From my floor-to-ceiling panoramic office window, the entire skyline of downtown Columbus stretched out like a kingdom at my feet.
My life had shifted into a rhythm of absolute peace.
The nursery at home was fully decorated in soft ivories and muted golds—a project I had completed entirely on my own terms, with my mother by my side. The legal fallout of Ethan’s corporate implosion had been swift and absolute. Stripped of his executive title, his stock options, and his lavish lifestyle, Ethan Carter had vanished from the high-society circles he so desperately craved. Rumor had it he was crashing on a college friend's couch somewhere in the suburbs, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey and mounting legal debt as civil suits from disgruntled investors began piling up against him.
As for Vanessa?
She had tried to reach out to me twice through intermediaries, offering "inside information" on Ethan's personal finances in exchange for financial restitution. I hadn't even bothered to open her emails. People who build their houses on shifting sand deserve to sink with the tide.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Come in," I said without turning around.
The heavy oak door creaked open, and Marcus stepped inside, holding a thick leather-bound portfolio.
"Charlotte," Marcus said, his voice tinged with a mixture of professional respect and amusement. "You have a visitor downstairs. Security tried to turn him away, but he refused to leave until he spoke with you directly."
I turned slowly from the window, raising an eyebrow. "At this hour? Who could possibly be desperate enough to brave lobby security?"
Marcus cracked a faint, knowing smile. "Julian Vance. Your former CFO."
I let out a quiet, dry chuckle, walking back to my executive desk and taking a seat in the high-backed leather chair. "Julian? I thought he cleared out his desk weeks ago."
"He did," Marcus replied, laying the portfolio on the edge of my desk. "But it turns out Ethan left a trail of financial discrepancies behind him when he scrambled to cover his tracks. Julian claims he has hard proof that Ethan was systematically embezzling from the R&D subsidiary accounts six months before the divorce filing. He's hoping that cooperating fully might save him from being named as an accessory in the federal investigation."
I opened the portfolio, scanning the neat rows of bank routing numbers and offshore wire transfers. The evidence was damning. Ethan’s greed hadn't just cost him his company; it had laid the groundwork for his eventual criminal indictment.
"He really thought he was untouchable, didn't he?" I murmured, closing the folder.
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"Arrogance is a blind spot, Charlotte," Marcus said quietly. "Most people think power is something you hold. They don't realize it's something you're merely entrusted with."
"Send him up, Marcus," I said, a cool, decisive edge returning to my voice. "Let's hear what our former employee has to say."
