Chapter 3 - The Interrogation Room
The interrogation room on the second floor of Bennett Capital’s corporate headquarters was stark, windowless, and designed to intimidate. The walls were painted a dull, oppressive grey; a single overhead LED fixture cast a harsh, unforgiving glare down onto the stainless-steel table below.
Sienna Brooks sat at the center of the table, her makeup slightly smeared from quiet, frantic crying. The crimson blazer that had looked so commanding during the morning briefing now looked like a straitjacket.
The heavy metal door clicked open. Naomi walked in, carrying a single manila folder, followed by Miranda Stone. Naomi didn’t wear a jacket now; her pristine white silk blouse and tailored trousers gave her the terrifying aura of a modern-day executioner.
She pulled out the chair opposite Sienna and sat down with agonizing slowness, folding her hands neatly on the table.
“Ms. Brooks,” Naomi began, her voice quiet, almost conversational. “Let’s talk about your future. Or rather, the lack thereof.”
Sienna kept her eyes glued to the steel table, her lower lip trembling. “Please… please, Ms. Bennett. I’ll quit. I’ll leave TechVista today. I’ll never see Garrett again. Just… please don’t ruin my life.”
“Your life?” Naomi echoed softly, tilting her head. “You spent the last eighteen months sleeping with my husband, mocking my marriage behind my back, and using my company’s capital to fund your little romantic weekend getaways. And now you’re asking me to spare your life?”
“He told me you didn't love him!” Sienna blurted out, tears finally spilling over her lashes. “He said you were married to your work! He said you neglected him, that the marriage was already over on paper, and that you guys were just living together like roommates!”
Naomi didn’t flinch. She had expected Garrett to feed her that tired, pathetic cliché. Every cheating husband used the exact same script to justify his cowardice.
“Garrett is a lot of things,” Naomi said evenly, “primarily a failed entrepreneur who hasn’t made a dime of his own in four years. But regardless of what lies he told you to get you into bed, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you stole over thirty thousand dollars in fraudulent travel reimbursements from TechVista.”
Miranda Stone slid a document across the table. It was a formal confession and cooperation agreement.
“Sign this,” Miranda commanded coldly. “It outlines every single fraudulent expense report you filed over the last year, along with sworn testimony detailing how Garrett Bennett actively coordinated with you to use corporate funds for personal use.”
Sienna stared at the paper as if it were a venomous snake. “If I sign this… what happens to Garrett?”
Naomi’s eyes narrowed into twin daggers. *That* was the million-dollar question. Even now, kneeling in the dirt of her own professional ruin, Sienna was still trying to protect him.
“That,” Naomi said, standing up slowly and leaning over the table so her face was inches from Sienna’s, “is entirely up to you. You can either sign the confession, hand over every text message, email, and voice note Garrett has ever sent you regarding our marriage and your affair, and help us nail him to the wall in our upcoming divorce proceedings… or I walk out that door, call the federal prosecutor, and have you arrested for corporate embezzlement before lunch.”
Sienna looked up, searching Naomi’s face for a shred of mercy, a hint of weakness. She found none. There was only ice.
“He… he’s going to destroy you in court,” Sienna whispered, a last-ditch effort to salvage something. “His lawyer has a strategy. They’re going to claim emotional abandonment. They’re going to go after Bennett Capital’s assets.”
Naomi let out a low, cold laugh that sent a shiver down Sienna’s spine.
“Let him try,” Naomi said, straightening her posture. “Garrett thinks he’s playing chess. But he doesn’t realize I own the board, the pieces, and the table it’s sitting on.”
May you like
Sienna’s hand shook violently as she picked up the pen. With trembling fingers, she scrawled her signature at the bottom of the confession page, sealing not only her own fate, but Garrett’s as well.
***
