Chapter 13 - The Digital Smoking GunI took the flash drive from Chloe's trembling hand, sliding it smoothly into my coat pocket.
"What do you want, Chloe?" I asked, my tone clinical and cold.
"I want protection," she pleaded, tears streaming down her hollow cheeks. "I want my record expunged, or at least transferred to a minimum-security facility where I won't have to look over my shoulder every second. You have the political connections. You can do it."
"I can," I agreed evenly. "And if the data on this drive corroborates what you're saying about Julian’s pre-meditated framing, I'll instruct my legal team to file a motion for sentence commutation. But you leave this state today, Chloe. And if you ever cross my path again, not even federal prison will save you."
She nodded frantically, scrambling backward before turning and running down the private driveway toward the main road.
That evening, sitting in the sprawling oak-paneled study of the Maine estate, I plugged the flash drive into my encrypted laptop. The screen flickered, unlocking a hidden folder labeled E-Exit Strategy.
Inside were audio recordings, encrypted chat logs, and draft legal filings dating back over two years. Julian hadn't just been cheating; he had been slowly siphoning capital into a shell corporation named V-Holdings, explicitly designed to bankrupt Vance Global behind my back and frame me for insider trading if I ever threatened to leave him.
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The depth of his malice was staggering. But what shocked me most was a folder dated three weeks before our anniversary—the exact date he had gifted me a diamond tennis bracelet. In the chat logs, he laughed with an associate about how easy it was to "keep the simpleton quiet with shiny trinkets while the real assets move offshore."
My blood ran cold, instantly hardening into pure, unadulterated ice. He didn't just disrespect me; he actively plotted my total financial and social destruction.
