Chapter 2 - The Audit Begins
By 8:00 AM the following morning, I was sitting in the corner office of Vance, Sterling & Cross, the premier corporate restructuring and asset recovery firm in downtown Chicago where I was a senior partner.
My knees were heavily wrapped under my tailored black pantsuit. A dark purple-and-blue bruise covered both kneecaps, but I didn't take painkillers. I wanted to feel every throb. It kept my focus sharp.
My assistant, Marcus, dropped a thick paper folder onto my glass desk, followed by a large iced Americano.
"The temporary restraining order against Daniel Mercer and Vivian Mercer has been drafted and filed with the cook county clerk," Marcus reported, his tone strictly professional. "We’ve also served formal notice to First National Bank, City Alliance Group, and the Mercer Estate Trust declaring that your personal guarantee on all auxiliary debt facilities has been formally withdrawn under Section 4-A of the Asset Protection Act."
"Good," I said, taking a sip of the bitter coffee. "What’s the exposure?"
"Without your monthly liquidity injections, the Mercer family balance sheet is a crime scene," Marcus said, pulling up a chart on his tablet. "They have forty-eight hours before the primary mortgage on the Lake Forest mansion defaults. The lease on Vivian’s Mercedes is sixty days past due—you were holding the dealership off with personal letters of credit. The country club membership will be revoked by Friday. And Daniel’s venture firm? It’s not just un-profitable, Emma. He’s been using company funds to pay his sister’s credit card bills."
"Commingling personal and corporate assets," I murmured, leaning back in my leather chair. "A classic amateur move."
My desk phone rang. It was the main reception line.
"Emma," the receptionist’s voice came through the speaker. "There’s a Mr. Daniel Mercer in the lobby. He doesn't have an appointment, but he’s refusing to leave until he sees you. Security is on standby."
I took a slow breath. "Send him in, Sarah. But keep Security on the floor."
Thirty seconds later, the frosted glass doors of my office swung open.
Daniel looked like he hadn't slept a single second in twelve hours. His hair was uncombed, his designer suit jacket was rumpled, and his eyes were bloodshot and frantic. He didn't look like the confident, polished venture capitalist he pretended to be on LinkedIn. He looked like a man drowning in open water.
He rushed toward my desk, but stopped short when he saw Marcus standing near the window, holding a notepad.
"Emma," Daniel gasped, his hands trembling as he reached toward my desk. "Can we please speak alone? Please."
I gestured to Marcus, who gave Daniel a cold, warning glare before stepping outside and closing the heavy glass door behind him.
"You have five minutes, Daniel," I said, keeping my hands folded neatly over my leather desk blotter.
"Emma, my mother is losing her mind," Daniel blurted out, taking two steps closer. "The bank called at seven this morning! They said our primary credit facility has been frozen! The lease company sent a tow truck to the house to repossess her car at eight! My sister’s college portal locked her out of class registration because the tuition transfer bounced!"
"Yes," I said smoothly. "That is generally what happens when you cancel the bank account that pays for those things."
"How could you do this?!" Daniel slammed his fists onto the edge of my desk, his voice cracking with hysterical panic. "Over an argument at dinner?! She’s an old woman, Emma! She’s my mother! She has a certain standing in the community! You embarrassed her in front of the entire family!"
I slowly stood up, resting both palms flat on the cold glass surface. I leaned forward until my face was barely a foot from his.
"She didn't embarrass me, Daniel," I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. "She assault-ed me. She put her hands on me, shoved me to the floor, bruised my bones against marble tile, and told me a daughter-in-law obeys. And while I was on my knees, bleeding under my skin, you looked at the floor and told me to apologize."
Daniel flinched as if I had struck him.
"I... I was caught in the middle!" he stammered, his eyes darting away from mine. "You know how she is! She has a temper! She’s set in her ways! If I had taken your side in front of Uncle Richard, it would have destroyed her authority in the family!"
"Her authority was built on my money!" I shouted, the restraint finally cracking in my voice. "Her silk dress was bought with my corporate bonus! Her house was kept out of foreclosure by my signatures! She had no authority, Daniel! She had a host! And I am no longer letting parasites feed on my life!"
Daniel took a step back, looking at me as if I were a stranger. "You... you really mean this. You're divorcing me?"
"My attorney served the papers to your personal email fifteen minutes ago," I said, sitting back down and opening my laptop. "I am filing for a complete dissolution of marriage based on irreconcilable differences and financial fraud. You have thirty days to vacate the downtown condo—which, as you remember, is registered solely under my maiden name."
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"Emma, where am I supposed to go?!" Daniel panicked, his voice rising into a pitch of terrifying helplessness. "I don't have liquid capital! Everything I have is tied up in the venture portfolio!"
"Then I suggest you ask your mother," I said without looking up from my screen. "A son obeys, doesn't he?"
