Chapter 8 - Stripped of Illusions
“I was wrong!” Ethan fell to his knees in front of the entire assembly of New York high society. He didn’t care about his dignity anymore; the abyss of poverty was staring back at him, and it terrified him to his core. “I was blind, Claire! I'll fire Sabrina, I'll sign over fifty percent of the company to you, seventy percent! Just call off the default! Release my accounts!”
Whispers of contempt rippled through the gathered crowd. Alexander Thorne looked down at Ethan as if he were an insect crawling across a banquet table.
“Get up, Mr. Mercer,” Alexander said quietly, his voice deep and lethal. “You are embarrassing whatever microscopic shred of manhood you have left.”
Claire walked toward Ethan, looking down at his bowed head. She reached into a small black folder presented by her assistant and dropped a thick sheaf of documents onto the floor in front of him.
“What is this?” Ethan stammered, looking at the papers.
“Those are the forensic accounting audits of the last three years,” Claire said. “Along with the digital timestamps from your personal computer. You didn’t just take credit for my designs, Ethan. Six months ago, you took out a key-person life insurance policy on me worth fifty million dollars, with yourself as the sole beneficiary.”
Ethan’s face went dead white. The entire room gasped.
“And three weeks ago,” Claire continued, her voice trembling slightly with cold fury, “the brake lines on my private car were tampered with while parked in Mercer Capital’s private garage. The garage where only you, your driver, and your security chief have keycard access.”
“No… no, that wasn't me! Claire, I swear to God I knew nothing about that!” Ethan cried out, his voice cracking into a desperate squeal.
“The mechanic you paid fifty thousand dollars in untraceable crypto thought differently,” Claire said ruthlessly. “He gave a full confession to federal investigators an hour ago. You didn't just want me out of your life, Ethan. You wanted me dead so the copyright would transfer automatically to you without any messy divorce proceedings.”
The room erupted into shocked gasps. Two detectives from the NYPD Major Case Squad, flanked by federal agents, stepped forward through the crowd.
“Ethan Mercer,” Detective Harris said, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt. “You are under arrest for attempted murder, grand larceny, and corporate fraud. You have the right to remain silent.”
May you like
As the cold steel snapped around Ethan’s wrists, he looked up at Claire one last time, begging with his eyes. But Claire had already turned her back to him, facing the breathtaking skyline that she had truly earned.
***
