Chapter 3 - The Interrogation
By 5:00 p.m., Victoria Vance was sitting in an interrogation room at the 17th Precinct, her designer dress rumpled, her makeup smeared, crying hysterically as she realized the gravity of what she had done.
Across the street, in a private conference room at my legal team's offices, the forensic auditors had uncovered the real reason Victoria had been so desperate to drive me away from the company.
"It wasn't just an affair, Sarah," Marcus said, laying out a series of financial spreadsheets across the table. "Victoria wasn't just sleeping with your husband. She was actively transferring company funds into a shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands."
I picked up the report, scanning the figures. "How much?"
"Eight point four million dollars over the last fourteen months," Marcus replied. "And Julian signed off on every single wire transfer. Either he was completely clueless because he was distracted by her, or he was in on the embezzlement."
"He was clueless," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my throat. "Julian is arrogant, selfish, and foolish, but he loves his money too much to steal from himself. Victoria played him like a violin."
At that moment, the door opened, and a associate walked in. "Mrs. Sterling, Julian is downstairs in the lobby. He's begging to see you. He says he won't leave until you talk to him."
I looked at Marcus, then down at my hands. "Send him up."
Five minutes later, Julian walked into the room. He looked like a shell of the man who had strutted around his executive office that morning. His tie was loosened, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"Sarah..." he choked out, walking toward me with his hands raised in a desperate gesture of pleading. "Please... you have to stop this. The board is holding an emergency vote to strip me of my title tomorrow morning. The bank won't let me access my accounts. I can't even pay my legal retainer!"
"Sit down, Julian," I commanded quietly.
He dropped into the nearest chair, staring at me with a mixture of terror and regret. "Sarah, I swear to God, I didn't know Victoria was going to touch your hair! I was shocked, I was paralyzed—"
"You laughed, Julian," I interrupted, my voice dropping to a icy whisper. "When I called you from my car, shattered and humiliated, you laughed at me. You told me not to be dramatic."
"I was wrong!" he cried, tears welling in his eyes. "I made a terrible mistake! She meant nothing to me, Sarah! I love you! We built this company together!"
"We didn't build it together," I corrected him smoothly. "My father funded it. I managed the logistics infrastructure. You were just the pretty face who stood in front of the cameras."
I slid the forensic audit report across the desk toward him.
Julian blinked, looking down at the numbers. As his eyes scanned the wire transfers and Victoria's offshore accounts, his face turned from pale to completely ash-gray.
"What... what is this?" he whispered.
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"Your mistress stole eight million dollars from under your nose," I said. "And because your signature is on every document, the federal prosecutors are preparing to name you as a co-conspirator in corporate embezzlement."
Julian slumped back in his seat, the air completely leaving his lungs.
