Chapter 6 - The Audit Begins
The silence at the center of the ballroom was suffocating.
Weston looked like he was going to vomit. The realization was crashing over him like a tidal wave—the wife he had insulted, ignored, and left home to scrub dishes was the sole reason he wasn't bankrupt six years ago.
“Elowen... please,” Weston stuttered, his knees buckling slightly under the weight of the guards’ grip. “I... I didn't mean what I said tonight. I was stressed! The company... the pressure... I was just joking!”
“Joking?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You told me everything I have is because I married you.”
I turned to Julian, who immediately opened the black leather briefcase he was holding.
“Julian,” I said, my voice echoing across the silent VIP area. “What is the total value of the personal assets registered under my maiden name, Sterling?”
“Three point two billion dollars in liquid capital, Madam Chairwoman,” Julian read aloud crisply. “Including forty-two commercial properties, controlling interest in Meridian Group, and ninety percent of Prescott Logistics’ convertible debt.”
“And what is Weston Prescott’s current personal net worth without Vanguard’s backing?”
Julian flipped a page. “Negative fourteen million dollars. His personal residence on Birch Street was leveraged as collateral for Prescott Logistics’ short-term debt three months ago.”
A collective gasp swept through the nearby tables of high-society elites.
Victoria took a step back, her eyes wide with horror as she realized she had attached herself to a sinking ship. She looked at Weston as if he were a poisonous insect.
“Negative fourteen million?” Victoria whispered, horrified. “Weston, you told me you owned the Birch Street estate outright!”
“Shut up, Victoria!” Claudia shrieked, turning her fury on the younger woman. “You’re the one who convinced him to leave Elowen home tonight! You whispered poison in his ear!”
“I didn't force him to leave his wife!” Victoria yelled back, her professional mask crumbling into ugly panic. “He said she was plain and embarrassing!”
“ENOUGH!” I cut in, my voice striking the room like a crack of thunder.
Everyone fell silent instantly.
May you like
I walked over to Table One and picked up the crystal glass of champagne that had been poured for the Chairwoman. I looked down at Weston, who was now kneeling on the floor as the guards released their grip slightly.
“You wanted an investor tonight, Weston,” I said softly. “So let’s talk business.”
