Chapter 3 - The Morning After
At 6:00 AM, the morning sun broke over the Palo Alto hills, casting long golden light through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of my mansion.
Inside the master suite, Preston and Marissa were fast asleep in my bed, exhausted from their failed overnight attempt to breach the vault.
Downstairs, the front door unlocked with a quiet, electronic chime.
I stepped into the foyer wearing a crisp grey tailored suit, my hair pinned up tightly, accompanied by Marcus Vance and two armed private security detail officers. Behind us, parked silently along the driveway, were two sleek black vans belonging to the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Cyber Division.
I walked through the silent living room. The crystal decanter sat half-empty on the marble table. Marissa’s coat still lay across my white sofa.
I turned to my lead security officer, Frank. “Secure the perimeter. Make sure no devices leave this house.”
“Understood, Ms. Reed,” Frank said, moving efficiently toward the kitchen and rear exits.
I walked up the floating glass staircase, my heels clicking softly against the hardwood. I stood at the entrance of the master bedroom and pushed the door wide open.
The morning light flooded the room. Preston stirred, blinking against the glare, pulling the duvet over his chest.
“Liza?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes in confusion. “What... what are you doing home? You said you were in New York until Sunday.”
Marissa bolted upright beside him, clutching the sheet to her neck, her eyes widening in sheer terror as she noticed Marcus Vance and the security officers standing behind me.
“Get out of my bed, Preston,” I said softly.
Preston scrambled out of bed, grabbing his silk robe, trying to adopt his usual charming, disarming smile. “Liza, look... I can explain. Things got out of hand last night. Marissa is just an associate—we had too much wine—”
“Save it, Preston,” I cut him off, dropping a heavy blue leather binder onto the foot of the bed with a loud thud.
He stared at the binder. “What is this?”
“That is a complete forensic ledger of the forty-two million dollars you routed through our Luxembourg accounts to Vance Global over the last nine months,” I said. “Along with high-definition video recordings of you and Ms. Lane attempting to breach a military-grade biometric safe in my dressing room at 11:42 PM last night.”
Preston’s face drained of every ounce of color. He staggered back a step, looking at Marissa, whose face was completely pale.
“Liza... please,” Preston stuttered, his voice trembling violently. “You’re misunderstanding... Julian Vance threatened me! He threatened to ruin Ironvale if I didn't get him those files!”
“Julian Vance didn't threaten you, Preston,” I said, looking at him with utter disgust. “You approached him nine months ago at the Tech Summit in Geneva. You offered him my core architecture in exchange for a fifteen percent equity stake in Vance Global and a ten-million-dollar offshore sign-on bonus.”
Marissa gasped, looking at Preston. “You told me you were getting twenty-five percent!”
I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Even amongst thieves, Preston, you’re a fraud.”
I stepped back, opening the door wider as heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs.
Four uniformed FBI special agents stepped into the master bedroom, led by Senior Agent Miller.
“Preston Vale? Marissa Lane?” Agent Miller announced, producing federal arrest warrants. “You are under arrest for federal wire fraud, corporate espionage, and unauthorized access to classified defense systems. Hands where we can see them.”
Preston dropped to his knees, tears welling in his eyes as he looked at me. “Eliza! Please! You built this company! You can tell them it was an internal misunderstanding! Don't do this to me! I’m your husband!”
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I stood over him, looking down at the man I had supported for twelve years.
“You were my husband, Preston,” I whispered, bending down so only he could hear me. “Now you’re just an unauthorized variable in my network. And I always eliminate bugs.”
