Chapter 10 - The Gala of Reckoning
"Bring her to the garden pavilion," I said. "Do not let her enter the main house."
Ten minutes later, I walked down the gravel pathway to the glass-enclosed pavilion overlooking the formal rose gardens. Chloe was sitting on a wrought-iron bench, shivering despite the heavy blanket one of the groundskeepers had thrown over her shoulders.
Her expensive shell was completely gone. She looked like a child who had played with matches and accidentally burned down her own neighborhood.
When she saw me enter, she stood up awkwardly, her knees trembling. She didn't glare. She didn't sneer. She dropped her head, tears falling silently onto her hands.
"I didn't know," she whispered, her voice cracked and hoarse. "I swear to God, Vivian, I didn't know he was setting me up to take the criminal blame. He told me you were abusive. He told me you withheld his money, that you made him feel like a kept pet. He told me that wearing your dress would show you that he finally belonged to someone else."
"You chose to believe him because vanity is comfortable," I said, stopping several paces away from her. "Why are you here, Chloe?"
With trembling fingers, Chloe reached into the pocket of her oversized coat and pulled out a small, metallic silver thumb drive.
"He forgot this on the hotel nightstand when he left to meet Julian Thorne this morning," she said, holding it out with shaking hands. "It contains the direct audio recordings of every meeting Grant had with Thorne over the last six months. They were planning to sabotage the Phase III clinical trials of Hartwell Biotech’s new oncology drug to tank the stock price before the takeover."
My heart hammered against my ribs, though my outward composure did not crack.
That clinical trial was my late father’s life work—a revolutionary gene therapy designed to treat aggressive pediatric leukemias. Grant hadn't just committed financial fraud; he was willing to derail life-saving medicine to engineer a corporate coup.
"Why give this to me?" I asked, looking into her bloodshot eyes. "Why not give it to the federal prosecutor to buy yourself immunity?"
"Because Grant ruined my life," Chloe said, a sudden flare of genuine, desperate rage breaking through her tears. "And the prosecutor will take months to file charges. You... you can destroy him today."
I looked at the silver drive in her hand.
"Tonight is the annual Hartwell Foundation Gala at the Metropolitan Museum," I said softly. "Julian Thorne is the keynote corporate donor. Grant is planning to attend on Thorne’s guest pass to announce their partnership."
Chloe looked up, hope flickering faintly in her eyes. "What are you going to do?"
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"I am going to let them make their announcement," I said, reaching out and taking the silver drive from her palm. "And then I am going to bury them both."
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