Chapter 4
Julian’s hand hovered over the brushed-metal door handle, but he didn’t turn it. He stood frozen, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a deep, controlled sigh. The silence in the room returned, broken only by the steady, rhythmic beep of the cardiac monitor beside Catherine’s bed.
Arnold watched Julian closely, reading the internal calculation happening behind his colleague’s rigid posture. Julian was a survivor; he had built a career on finding loopholes and exploiting technicalities. He wasn’t about to sacrifice his freedom for a crumbling loyalty, but he also knew that turning on Catherine completely could expose his own indirect involvement in the cover-up.
“It’s not that simple, Julian, and you know it,” Arnold said, breaking the silence. He walked over to the armchair Julian had just vacated and draped his suit jacket over the back before sitting down. He crossed one leg over the other, maintaining an air of calm authority. “If you walk out that door and try to cut a separate deal with the U.S. Attorney, Catherine’s legal team will drop the full evidentiary binder on the media outlets by morning. Every email, every memo, every offshore routing slip—splashed across the front page of the financial gazettes.”
Catherine slowly lifted her head from the pillows. The vulnerability she had shown moments earlier vanished, replaced by the hardened survival instinct that had propelled her to the top of the corporate ladder in the first place. She reached out, her fingers sliding underneath the flap of the manila folder on her lap. With agonizing slowness, she pulled out the photograph of the submerged sedan.
“Arnold is right,” Catherine said, her voice steady now, regaining its chilling composure. “We are anchored to each other. If I sink, I’m pulling this entire firm down into the trench with me. My lawyer isn't going to stop the subpoena, Julian. He’s going to expand it. By tomorrow afternoon, subpoenas will be served to your wife’s charitable foundation as well.”
Julian spun around, his face flushed with sudden fury. “Leave my family out of this, Catherine! Helen has nothing to do with any of this corporate fraud!”
“Helen signed the deed on the shell company’s real estate holdings in the Caymans back in twenty-eighteen,” Catherine countered, her eyes flashing with dangerous defiance. She tapped the photograph against her knee. “Do you really think I was stupid enough to leave my own name on the primary asset registry? We all protected ourselves by hiding behind each other’s families. It was our insurance policy. And insurance policies only pay out when things go catastrophic.”
Thomas rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, weary sigh. He walked over to the rolling tray, picked up the manila folder, and flipped through the printed bank statements inside. The numbers stared back at them like an indictment written in ink and blood.
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“So what’s the play?” Thomas asked, looking between Arnold and Julian. “We can’t outrun the feds, and we certainly can’t trust each other not to fold under pressure. If we fight among ourselves, we hand the prosecution an easy victory.”
“The play,” Arnold said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, “is damage control. We find out exactly what the prosecutor has in his possession right now, before the grand jury convenes on Monday morning.”
