Chapter 3 - Blood and Balance Sheets
By 8:00 AM the next morning, the high-society rumors had turned into a full-scale corporate forest fire.
Noel sat in Maeve Sterling’s glass-walled office on the 45th floor of the Willis Tower. Across the table were two forensic accountants Maeve had summoned at midnight. Spread across the table were financial statements, corporate registries, and wire transfer logs that Noel had pulled from her personal backup drives before Darius could revoke her administrative access.
“Look at this,” chief auditor David Chen said, tapping a red pen on a series of wire transfers dating back eighteen months. “Holt Table has been paying a consulting firm called ‘LVM Strategy Group’ roughly eighty thousand dollars a month. The shell company is registered in Delaware.”
Noel leaned closer. “Who owns LVM Strategy Group?”
“It took us four hours to break through the offshore nominee setup,” David said, sliding a document across the table. “The sole shareholder of LVM Strategy is Leila Morgan.”
Noel felt a cold rage settle into her ribs. Darius hadn't just been sleeping with his Director of Partnerships; he had been funneling corporate assets directly into her personal offshore accounts. He was stripping Holt Table’s valuation to pad Leila’s pockets before filing for a predetermined divorce that would leave Noel penniless.
“It’s corporate embezzlement,” Maeve noted, a fierce, razor-sharp smile touching her lips. “Darius isn't just an abuser, Noel. He’s a thief. And he used company money to buy the cream silk dress Leila wore to the dinner last night.”
Before Noel could speak, her phone vibrated on the desk. It was an urgent summons from the Board of Directors of Holt Table. Darius had called an emergency board meeting for 11:00 AM at the corporate headquarters on North Michigan Avenue. The topic: Immediate Removal of Noel Benton from Board of Directors and Public Relations Damage Control.
“He’s setting a trap,” Maeve warned. “He’s going to tell the board you had a hysterical episode due to mental instability, and he’ll present a sanitized narrative to secure Apex Capital’s money.”
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Noel stood up, adjusting the lapels of her sharp, charcoal-grey tailored blazer. She wore sunglasses to hide the deep bruising around her eye, but her stance was unyielding.
“Let him preach to his board,” Noel said calmly. “I’m going to show up with the pulpit.”
