Chapter 2 - The Audit
The first week of January passed in a blur of corporate presentations, blueprint revisions, and cold, calculated patience. While Daniel continued his daily routine—leaving for “business meetings” in Indianapolis three days a week while actually visiting Savannah—I quietly assembled my team.
On a crisp Tuesday morning, I sat behind my walnut desk on the thirty-sixth floor of Hartwell-Vance Architecture, staring out at the frozen expanse of Lake Michigan.
My door opened, and David Vance, our firm’s chief financial officer and corporate legal counsel, walked in carrying a thick stack of manila folders.
“You wanted to see me, Claire?” David asked, closing the door securely behind him.
“Close it completely, David,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion.
He raised an eyebrow, noting my tone, and sat down in the leather armchair opposite my desk.
“I need an exhaustive, forensic audit of every single ledger entry, wire transfer, and asset transfer linked to Meridian Consulting over the last twenty-four months,” I said, sliding a printed flash drive across the desk.
David frowned. “Meridian Consulting? That’s the vendor your husband manages for our overseas material acquisitions, right? We’ve funneled close to eight hundred thousand dollars through them for the last three hotel projects.”
“It was never a material vendor,” I said quietly. “It’s a shell company created by Daniel and his father to siphon corporate capital into private accounts.”
David went completely still. As a seasoned corporate attorney, he knew the legal gravity of what I was alleging. “Claire... are you certain? Embezzlement of corporate funds by a spouse holding a proxy power-of-attorney is a severe federal offense.”
I unlocked my computer, pulled up an audio file, and hit play.
The tinny, high-definition speakers of my desktop filled the silent office with the sound of Daniel’s voice echoing from my New Year’s Eve recording:
“There’s just under eight hundred thousand in the investment account we opened through Meridian Consulting... She didn’t read it? Claire designs fifty-story buildings, but if I put a yellow tab beside a signature line, she signs without looking.”
David stared at the screen, his face flushing with anger. “The son of a bitch.”
“That’s not all,” I continued, opening a second folder. “He and his family also coerced me into signing a property transfer for our Miami condo last month under the guise of a tax restructuring. Brooke is currently holding the title.”
David adjusted his glasses, his legal mind immediately shifting into high gear. “Okay. We don’t go to the police yet. If we tip them off, Daniel will liquidate whatever accounts he has left and try to flee jurisdiction. What we need is a complete financial trap.”
“Build it,” I instructed coldly. “Freeze all secondary corporate accounts linked to Daniel’s digital signature, audit the Meridian shell company down to its last penny, and prepare an emergency injunction to claw back the Miami property before the end of the month.”
“And what about your husband?” David asked, watching me closely. “How long are you going to let him play his little game?”
May you like
I looked back out the window at the gray, churning waters of the lake.
“Long enough for him to walk right into the trap,” I said. “He thinks I’m distracted by my career. Let’s give him a massive distraction.”
