Chapter 3
The mention of page four hung in the sterile air of the hospital room like an unexploded ordnance. Julian’s expression hardened, any lingering warmth in his features evaporating instantly. He stood up from the armchair, towering over the rolling tray, his height giving him a commanding presence despite the cramped confines of the space.
“Page four was drafted under duress, Catherine, and you know it,” Julian said, leaning over the edge of the bed so that his face was only inches from hers. “You manipulated the third-quarter projections to hide the shortfall in the pension fund. You used my signature stamp while I was recovering from hip surgery. Don’t sit there and act like this was a collective decision.”
Arnold stepped back, giving them space, though his hand remained casually resting on the corner of the briefcase. He had seen partnerships dissolve before, but never among people who had shared golf courses, vacation homes, and decades of mutual trust. Greed was a predictable poison, but panic was infinitely more destructive.
“Duress or not, the federal prosecutor doesn’t care about internal office politics,” Arnold interjected smoothly, injecting a dose of harsh reality into their bickering. “The moment Catherine’s defense attorney filed that motion to subpoena the offshore accounts, he opened a Pandora’s box. Those accounts hold funds belonging to former employees who lost their life savings when the regional branch collapsed. Once the Department of Justice sees those routing numbers, they won’t just look at Catherine. They’ll look at every board member who signed off on the restructuring plan three years ago.”
Thomas pushed off the window frame and walked slowly toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking softly against the linoleum floor. He stopped beside Julian, looking down at Catherine with a mixture of pity and calculated detachment.
“You brought this on yourself, Cat,” Thomas said quietly. “Driving off that pier wasn’t just a reckless escape. You were trying to destroy the hard drive in the glove compartment, weren’t you? You knew the backup server was syncing in real-time.”
Catherine’s breath hitched. She pulled her blue cardigan tighter around her shoulders, her fingers digging into the knitted fabric until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t deny it. The bandage on her forehead seemed to throb in rhythm with her pulse, a physical reminder of the moment her desperate bid for escape had crashed into the icy water of the bay.
May you like
“I was trying to save us,” she choked out, her voice cracking for the first time. “If the regulators got that drive, none of us would ever see daylight again. You think prison is a metaphor? It’s concrete, and it’s cold.”
“Then let’s make sure only one of us has to test how cold it is,” Julian said coldly, turning his back to her and walking toward the door.
