Chapter 7 - The Downfall
The following morning, the sun rose over a freezing Manhattan skyline.
Ethan arrived at the Bennett Tower at 8:45 AM, wearing a wrinkled suit that looked like it had been pulled from the bottom of a laundry basket. Gone was the confident, charismatic tech founder who had commanded the ballroom forty-eight hours ago. In his place was a pale, desperate man clutching a worn leather briefcase.
He tried to enter through the main glass doors, but two security guards intercepted him immediately.
"Ethan Mercer?" one guard asked.
"Yes! I have a nine o'clock meeting with Claire Bennett," Ethan said hastily, trying to push past them. "I'm the founder of Mercer Logistics!"
"The meeting has been relocated," a calm voice called out from the lobby.
Ethan looked up to see Jonathan Bennett walking toward him, flanked by two detectives in plain clothes.
Ethan froze, his eyes darting between Jonathan and the detectives. "What is this? Jonathan, what's going on? Where is Claire?"
"Claire doesn't need to speak to you anymore, Ethan," Jonathan said coldly, stopping a few feet away. "These gentlemen are from the Financial Crimes Unit of the NYPD."
global terror washed over Ethan’s face. "Financial crimes? What are you talking about? This is a civil dispute! It's a divorce!"
One of the detectives stepped forward, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "Ethan Mercer, you are under arrest for corporate fraud, wire fraud, grand larceny, and illegal securities manipulation involving offshore trading accounts."
"No! No, this is a mistake!" Ethan shrieked, backing away toward the glass doors, but the second guard blocked his path. "Claire is doing this! She's lying! She's using her family's money to frame me!"
"We have the wire transfer logs, Mr. Mercer," the detective said dispassionately, stepping in and grabbing Ethan’s wrists. The metal handcuffs clicked tightly around his arms. "And your former assistant, Olivia Hayes, has been giving statements for the last six hours."
"Olivia?" Ethan gasped, his voice cracking into a high-pitched scream as he was forced to his knees on the marble floor of the lobby. "That ungrateful bitch! She took the money! She asked for the necklace!"
"You authorized the transfer, Ethan," Jonathan said, looking down at him with utter disgust. "You thought you were the smartest guy in the room. You thought my sister was weak because she was quiet. You mistook her kindness for ignorance."
Reporters who had been tipped off were already gathering outside the glass doors, their camera flashes strobing through the tinted glass. Ethan buried his face against the polished floor, trying to hide from the lenses, but the detectives pulled him to his feet.
As they led him out toward the waiting police cruiser, Ethan caught sight of me standing on the mezzanine balcony overlooking the lobby.
Our eyes met for a long, quiet second.
May you like
He looked at me with a desperate, pathetic plea in his eyes, silently begging for mercy.
I didn't scowl. I didn't smile. I simply turned my back on him and walked toward the boardroom.
