Chapter 2 - The Audit of Apex
While Amelia sat in the glass tower, Ethan Caldwell was standing in the marble lobby of Apex Financial, his sweat soaking through his leased designer suit.
The air conditioning in the lobby was blasted high, but Ethan felt like he was burning alive. Beside him, Brooke was pacing back and forth on her high heels, her phone pressed furiously to her ear as she tried to reach her father, a mid-level investor who had put a substantial portion of his portfolio into Apex stock.
"He's not answering!" Brooke hissed, slamming her phone into her designer handbag. "Ethan, what did you do? Who the hell is she?!"
"I don't know!" Ethan shouted, his voice cracking as several junior analysts turned to stare at him. "She was a waitress! She worked breakfast shifts at a diner in downtown Oakland! She washed her clothes in a laundromat!"
"Does a waitress have three Lamborghinis and a private security force?!" Brooke spat, her face twisted in rage. "She said she bought Apex! My father’s savings are tied up in this company, Ethan!"
Before Ethan could reply, the heavy glass doors of the executive elevator suite opened. Two stern-faced private auditors, flanked by four building security guards, marched out and walked directly toward Ethan’s desk in the open-plan office.
"Ethan Caldwell?" the lead auditor asked, holding a digital tablet.
"Look, there's been a mistake," Ethan said, stepping forward with his hands raised, trying to force a charming smile that failed completely. "I know Ms. Sterling... Amelia... we just had a minor personal misunderstanding at the courthouse. If I could just speak to her father, or get ten minutes with Mr. Vance—"
"Mr. Vance was escorted from the premises twenty minutes ago by federal marshals," the auditor interrupted coldly. "Apex Financial is undergoing a complete forensic audit by order of Sterling Vanguard Holdings. Effective immediately, all corporate accounts, corporate credit cards, and executive perks associated with your tier have been frozen."
Ethan felt the floor tilt beneath him. "Frozen? What about my commission check from last month? It was supposed to clear today!"
"Your commission was generated through trades executed with Apex’s internal liquidity pool—a pool that was found to be operating in direct violation of SEC regulations," the auditor stated without a drop of empathy. "Furthermore, the corporate vehicle assigned to your unit—the leased sedan you retained in your divorce settlement—has been repossessed. It is currently being towed from the lower parking structure."
Brooke let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "You lost the car too?!"
"Brooke, shut up!" Ethan panicked, turning back to the auditor. "I have a apartment lease! I have client accounts!"
"You no longer have client accounts, Mr. Caldwell," the auditor said, tapping his screen. "Your series seven license has been placed under administrative review due to discrepancies found in your personal expense filings over the past eighteen months. Specifically, three hundred and forty thousand dollars charged to company accounts for 'client dinners' at high-end establishments."
The auditor looked up from his tablet, his eyes icy. "Including several receipts from The Meridian rooftop restaurant, co-signed by a Ms. Brooke Harrington."
Brooke gasped, taking two steps back away from Ethan. "I had nothing to do with his expenses! He told me he was a managing partner!"
"You ate the steak, Brooke!" Ethan screamed at her, his composure utterly shattering in front of forty staring coworkers. "You drank the five-hundred-dollar wine!"
"Security," the auditor said plainly. "Please escort Mr. Caldwell and Ms. Harrington from the building. They are barred from entering any property owned or managed by Sterling Vanguard or its subsidiaries nationwide."
Two heavy security guards grabbed Ethan by his arms. He thrashed and shouted, his expensive leather shoes dragging along the polished floor as he was hauled backward toward the street.
"Amelia!" Ethan screamed toward the ceiling, his voice echoing off the glass and steel. "Amelia, please! Talk to me! You loved me! You made me pot roast!"
The heavy glass doors swung open, and Ethan was dumped onto the sidewalk of Montgomery Street. His leather briefcase was tossed out after him, spilling a mess of printed spreadsheets and cheap pens across the dirty pavement.
Brooke stood a few feet away, brushing off her red dress, her eyes filled with absolute disgust as she looked down at him.
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"Don't ever call me again, Ethan," she said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp sneer. "You're nothing but a fake."
She turned on her heel and flagged a taxi, leaving Ethan on his knees in the middle of San Francisco's financial district, gathering his ruined papers while passersby pointed and took videos with their phones.
