Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
Two weeks after the indictment, Derek made one last, desperate attempt to salvage his shattered reality.
It was a rainy Tuesday evening. I was working late in my private office on the 50th floor, reviewing global supply chain metrics, when my executive assistant buzzed through the intercom.
“Elena, there’s a visitor in the lobby insisting on seeing you,” my assistant said, her voice laced with hesitation. “It’s... Mr. Vance. Security is escorting him out, but he broke away in the elevator lobby.”
Before I could answer, the heavy oak door of my office swung open.
Derek stood in the doorway. He looked utterly destroyed. His hair was uncombed, his designer suit wrinkled and unpressed, and his eyes were hollow, rimmed with dark circles of sheer exhaustion and panic. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in a week.
“Elena,” Derek breathed, taking an unsteady step into the office. “Please. You have to listen to me.”
I didn't look up from my tablet. “Security has two minutes to reach this floor, Derek. You’re trespassing.”
“Forget security!” Derek cried, his voice cracking as he rushed forward, dropping heavily to his knees beside my desk.
I looked down at him, my expression entirely impassive.
“Look at me,” Derek begged, reaching out as if to grab my hand, then stopping himself when he saw the cold glare in my eyes. “We were married for six years! We shared a life! You can’t send me to prison! If I’m convicted on these federal charges, I’ll serve ten to fifteen years! My life is over!”
“Your life isn’t over, Derek,” I said quietly. “It’s just finally being audited.”
“Drop the charges,” he pleaded, tears finally spilling over his eyelashes, cutting tracks through the dust on his cheeks. “Tell the DOJ it was a misunderstanding. Tell them it was a corporate restructuring error. I’ll sign the divorce papers. I’ll leave the city. You’ll never have to see me again.”
I closed my tablet, resting my hands flat on the mahogany desk, and looked straight down into the eyes of the man who had handed me divorce papers over my father’s open coffin while smiling with his mistress.
“The day my father died, Derek, you stood beside my grave in the pouring rain, handed me divorce papers in the mud, and told me I was useless because my father was dead,” I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. “You told me you never loved me, that I was just a stepping stone to power.”
Derek flinched as if I had struck him across the face.
“You didn’t just break a marriage contract,” I continued. “You tried to steal my family’s legacy, humiliate me in front of the board, and throw me out into the street while I was grieving the greatest loss of my life. And now you expect me to show you mercy because you’re scared of the consequences?”
“I was arrogant!” Derek sobbed, burying his face in his hands against the edge of my desk. “I was a fool! Please, Elena... have a heart.”
“My heart has nothing to do with this, Derek,” I said, pressing the intercom button on my desk. “This is mathematics. You stole $2.4 million, forged a dead man’s signature, and committed perjury. The numbers don’t negotiate.”
The office door opened instantly. Two towering security guards stepped in, their hands resting firmly on Derek’s shoulders.
“Get him out of my sight,” I instructed coldly.
“Elena! No! Please!” Derek screamed as the guards hoisted him to his feet and dragged him backward toward the door. “You’ll regret this! You’ll pay for this!”
The heavy oak door swung shut, cutting off his frantic cries.
May you like
I sat back in my chair, exhaling a slow, steady breath. The office was quiet again, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic patter of rain against the glass.
I picked up my pen, reopened my tablet, and went back to work.
