Chapter 5 - The Corporate ExecutionBy Friday afternoon, Victor Whitmore was sitting in a glass-walled conference room on the 14th floor of his corporate office building, sweating profusely despite the aggressive air conditioning.
He had spent the morning trying to call Jessica, only to find his number blocked. When he tried to check his mobile banking app to transfer emergency funds for rent, a chilling error message flashed across his screen: Account restricted. Please contact your financial institution.
The conference room door swung open.
It wasn't his boss. It was two men in sharp gray suits, accompanied by corporate HR director Karen Gable and a tall, intimidating woman with silver-streaked hair holding a leather briefcase.
Evelyn Vance.
"Victor Whitmore?" Evelyn asked, her voice cutting through the stale air like a scalpel.
"Who the hell are you?" Victor stammered, half-rising from his leather ergonomic chair. "What is this? Security! How did these people get up here?"
Karen Gable crossed her arms, looking at Victor with undisguised contempt, her face tight with corporate fury. "Sit down, Victor. Security isn't coming to help you. In fact, building security is currently downstairs escorting your paramour, Ms. Hughes, out of her office on the 9th floor."
Victor’s face turned the color of curdled milk. "What? Madison? What does she have to do with—"
"Corporate embezzlement, misuse of company-reimbursed travel funds, and fraudulent expense reporting," Evelyn interrupted smoothly, stepping into the room and slapping a thick stack of legal documents onto the mahogany table right in front of him.
Victor stared at the papers. His name was plastered across the top. State of North Carolina vs. Victor Whitmore. Attached were pages of corporate audits, credit card statements showing lavish dinners and designer boutique purchases for Madison funded by corporate client accounts, and the registration papers for V.H. Properties LLC.
"You can't..." Victor choked out, his hands trembling violently as he reached for the pages. "This is... this is a private matter! This is my personal life!"
" embezzling over four hundred thousand dollars in corporate funds to purchase a luxury downtown condo under a shell company is not a 'personal matter,' Victor," Evelyn said, leaning over the table, her eyes drilling straight into his panicked soul. "It’s a federal felony."
Victor dropped his head into his hands, the reality crashing down on him like a collapsing ceiling. "Jessica... Jessica did this."
"No, Victor," a cool, composed voice spoke from the doorway.
Victor snapped his head up.
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Jessica stood in the doorway, wearing a tailored charcoal pantsuit, sunglasses perched in her dark hair, looking like an absolute executive queen. She didn't look broken. She didn't look like the tearful, desperate housewife he had boasted about to his buddies just thirty-six hours ago.
She looked like his executioner.
