Chapter 2 - The Contract and the Trap
The room went dead silent.
Derek stared at me as if I had suddenly transformed into a ghost. He looked at the executive nameplate on my desk, then at the four board members who sat in respectful silence, awaiting my command.
"No..." Derek whispered, taking a step back, his eyes darting wildly around the room. "No, this is a joke. This is a scam! You drive a Honda Civic! You lived in a studio apartment in South Philly! Your wedding dress was $300!"
"I value modesty, Mr. Halston," I replied smoothly, tapping my fountain pen on his financial folder. "And more importantly, I value knowing whether a man loves me for who I am, or for what my bank account can do for him. Sadly, you failed that test within four hours of saying 'I do.'"
"Brynn, please—" Derek took two frantic steps toward me, his arrogant demeanor completely collapsing into sheer panic. "Can we talk about this in private?! There’s been a massive misunderstanding! About last night—"
"There is no private conversation here, Mr. Halston," I interrupted, raising a hand. "You are here to pitch for six million dollars in venture capital from my firm. Please sit down and present your deck."
Derek’s hands trembled so violently he could barely unclip his briefcase. He pulled out his presentation slides, sweat pouring down his temples, dripping onto his crisp collar.
He tried to speak. He stumbled over basic numbers. He misquoted his own profit margins. He looked like a amateur being interrogated by federal prosecutors.
"As... as you can see," Derek stammered, pointing a shaky laser pointer at the wall projection, "Halston Logistics is projected to grow by 40% over the next fiscal year... if we secure the $6 million expansion loan..."
I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands.
"According to page fourteen of your filing, Mr. Halston," I said coldly, "your company currently carries $1.8 million in undisclosed short-term high-interest debt. Furthermore, $400,000 of your operational capital was transferred three weeks ago into a personal holding account registered under the name of your mother, Marjorie Halston."
Derek choked on his breath. "That... that was an administrative reallocation! A short-term loan to secure family assets!"
"That is embezzlement of investor funds," I corrected him flatly.
I looked around the table at my four board members. "Gentlemen, what is Northstar Ridge’s policy on funding entities guilty of financial fraud, balance sheet manipulation, and personal asset drain?"
"Immediate rejection and potential referral to the State Attorney General's financial crimes division," the chief risk officer replied instantly.
Derek’s knees buckled. He grabbed the back of a chair to keep from falling onto the carpet.
"Brynn... please!" Derek begged, completely abandoning all professionalism as he fell to his knees right in front of the board members. "You’re my wife! We’re married! You can’t destroy my company! If Northstar rejects this pitch, my creditors will call in my debts by Friday! They’ll foreclose on my mother’s house! They’ll seize my fleet!"
I looked down at him with pure, unadulterated contempt.
"Twelve hours ago, Mr. Halston, you grabbed my hair, struck me across the face, and told me that I was nothing without you," I said, my voice dropping to a icy whisper that chilled the entire room. "You told me I would come crawling back to you on my knees."
I stood up from my chair.
"Look down, Derek. Who is on their knees right now?"
Derek wept openly, clutching the edge of the conference table. "I was wrong! I’m sorry! My mother made me do it! She pushed me! She’s always been controlling! I love you, Brynn! I swear to God I love you!"
"You don't love me," I said, pulling a leather binder from my desk and tossing it onto the floor right in front of his face. "You love my money. And unfortunately for you, you will never touch another cent of it."
The binder landed with a loud thud.
Inside were two documents:
A formal petition for annulment based on domestic violence, fraud, and non-disclosure of criminal liabilities.
May you like
An immediate asset freezing order issued by the Philadelphia Court of Common Pleas against Halston Logistics.
"You have twenty minutes to vacate my building, Mr. Halston," I said, picking up my coffee mug. "Or my security detail will throw you onto the pavement out front."
