Chapter 2 - The Morning After the Truth
The sun began to bleed over the horizon as the jet leveled out at thirty thousand feet.
Below us,
the world was waking up to a news cycle Ethan couldn't control.
Isabel had ensured that the "internal" board investigation wasn't going to stay internal for long.
By 6:00 a.m.,
the first whispers would hit the financial blogs.
A "leadership crisis" at Whitmore Global.
A "misuse of corporate funds" by the founder.
Ethan would be trapped in that hotel room,
watching his net worth evaporate with every sunrise.
I opened my laptop and looked at the data feeds.
The company stock was already beginning to twitch in pre-market trading.
Investors hate uncertainty,
and they especially hate a CEO who is distracted by his assistant.
Vanessa Carter.
I thought about her face in the photograph.
That triumphant,
sharp-edged smile.
She thought she was the one who had discovered the secret to Ethan’s heart.
She thought she was the one who would sit in the front row of the galas.
She didn't realize she was just a tool I used to trigger the final phase of the plan.
If she hadn't sent that photo,
I might have waited another month.
I might have given Ethan one last chance to be honest.
But her vanity had served as my catalyst.
She had handed me the smoking gun on a silver platter.
I looked at the messages Vanessa had sent me after the Board chat went live.
"You're a bitter,
old woman,
Claire."
"He loves me,
and there's nothing you can do to stop us."
I felt a strange sense of pity for her.
She was twenty-eight and believed that love was enough to sustain a billionaire's lifestyle.
She didn't know that Ethan didn't love people.
He loved the power people gave him.
And I was the one who held the keys to that power.
Isabel sent an update to my screen.
"Ethan is at the New York office.
He’s demanding to see the Chairman."
"The Chairman has refused to meet him without counsel."
"Vanessa has been placed on administrative leave,
effective immediately."
The first domino had fallen.
Vanessa would soon find out that being an executive assistant without a job is a very expensive hobby.
She would find out that Ethan's "white designer shirts" are hard to come by when the corporate accounts are frozen.
I poured a glass of water and watched the clouds.
For the first time in a decade,
I didn't have to worry about a shipping delay in Shanghai.
I didn't have to worry about a union strike in Rotterdam.
I was no longer the engine of the Whitmore machine.
May you like
I was the one who had just pulled the emergency brake.
And the screeching sound of the metal was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.
