Chapter 2 - The Ghost of the Gala
The elevator ride down felt like a descent into a different life.
I stared at my reflection in the polished brass walls.
I didn't look like a victim.
I looked like a Carter.
When the doors opened at the lobby,
two men in sharp grey suits stepped forward immediately.
"Ms. Carter,"
one of them said,
bowing his head slightly.
"Your father is waiting in the private lounge."
I didn't say a word as they escorted me past the wedding guests who were still lingering,
drinking the expensive wine I had paid for.
I saw Ethan’s friends,
laughing and bragging about the "big break" Ethan had finally gotten.
They were all in on it,
I realized.
The whole wedding was a circus designed to fleece me.
I walked into the lounge,
and there he was.
Richard Carter sat in a high-backed leather chair,
sipping a scotch that cost more than Ethan’s car.
He looked up,
his eyes narrowing as he saw the state of my dress and the look in my eyes.
"You heard them,"
he stated.
It wasn't a question.
I pulled the phone from my pocket and laid it on the table.
"Every word,
Dad."
"They want the penthouse.
They want my identity erased.
And Ethan has a mistress who is carrying his child."
My father’s face didn't change,
but the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
He gestured to the man standing in the corner,
the head of our legal department,
Marcus Thorne.
"Marcus,"
my father said quietly.
"Tell my daughter what we’ve found."
Marcus stepped forward,
opening a thick leather folder.
"Ethan Brooks has been embezzling from the 'joint' accounts for six months,"
he began.
"But what he doesn't know is that we flagged those accounts the moment they were opened.
The money he thinks he moved?
It’s sitting in a holding trust controlled by your father's firm.
The 'condo' he thinks he owns?
The deed was never in his name.
We used a shell company to purchase it,
and he merely signed a management agreement he didn't bother to read."
I felt a grim satisfaction spreading through my chest.
"And his mother?"
I asked.
"Vanessa Brooks is deep in debt to several offshore creditors,"
Marcus continued.
"She was counting on your 'inheritance' to bail out her failing boutique firm.
Without your money,
she’ll be bankrupt by the end of the month."
My father stood up and walked over to me,
placing a hand on my shoulder.
"I told you to be careful,
Emma."
"I wanted to believe in him,
Dad,"
I whispered.
"I wanted to be loved for being me."
"You are a Carter,"
he replied,
his voice like iron.
"That is part of who you are.
Now,
do you want to play the grieving bride,
or do you want to be the storm that breaks them?"
I looked at the phone,
the recording of Ethan laughing at my "powerlessness" still fresh in my mind.
"I don't want to just break them,"
I said,
a cold smile touching my lips.
"I want to watch them realize they never even stood a chance."
"Good,"
my father said.
"Marcus,
begin the freeze.
I want every credit card,
every car lease,
and every access code associated with the Brooks name neutralized by dawn."
"And Emma,"
he added,
looking at my wedding ring.
"Throw that piece of glass away."
"It’s a fake anyway."
I looked down at the diamond.
I pulled it off and dropped it into his half-empty glass of scotch.
"Let's go home,
May you like
Dad."
"The game is just beginning."
