Chapter 2 - THE THIRTY-EIGHT MILLION DOLLAR SECRET
Bianca sat back down.
Not in my chair.
In an empty seat along the wall.
That small movement told me more than any denial could have.
Garrett recovered first.
“Consulting arrangements are normal.”
“Thirty-eight million dollars?” Samuel asked.
“Across multiple projects.”
Martin was already scrolling through records.
“Not according to the payment descriptions.”
Garrett glared at him.
“You work for me.”
Martin looked exhausted.
“I work for West Enterprises.”
That distinction landed hard.
I almost felt sorry for Garrett.
Almost.
Bianca finally spoke.
“The companies provided legitimate services.”
“What services?” I asked.
“Project development.”
“Which projects?”
She hesitated.
“Several.”
I smiled faintly.
“Name one.”
Garrett stepped between us verbally before she could answer.
“This is exactly why Rosalie has no place in an operational meeting. She knows nothing about how a corporation works.”
One of the shareholders actually looked embarrassed for him.
I walked to the table and picked up the shareholder resignation he had expected me to sign.
“You’re right about one thing.”
His expression relaxed slightly.
“I haven’t been involved in daily operations.”
I tore the resignation in half.
Then again.
“But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been paying attention.”
I placed the pieces beside the divorce settlement.
Seven years of being invisible had taught me something useful.
People said extraordinary things around women they considered irrelevant.
Martin connected his laptop to the boardroom display.
The three consulting companies appeared.
Drake Strategic.
Briar Holdings.
Eastport Advisory.
Drake Strategic belonged to Bianca.
Briar Holdings was registered through a Delaware agent.
Eastport had existed for only fourteen months.
Together, they had collected $38.4 million from West Enterprises.
Samuel turned toward Garrett.
“Were these approved by the board?”
“Within executive authority.”
Martin shook his head.
“Anything above five million required audit committee notification.”
Garrett’s voice sharpened.
“Then the committee was notified.”
Every eye turned toward Helen Wu, chair of the audit committee.
She looked at him.
“No, Garrett.”
His confidence slipped another inch.
Helen continued.
“I have never seen these agreements.”
Bianca whispered:
“Garrett told me legal approved them.”
Garrett turned.
“Don’t.”
One word.
Not loud.
But Bianca immediately stopped speaking.
Interesting.
I looked at Martin.
“Who signed the payments?”
“Garrett authorized seventeen million.”
“And the rest?”
Martin zoomed in.
Electronic approvals.
My name appeared on four.
Rosalie Bradford.
The room went silent.
I laughed.
It was the only possible response.
“I never approved a single one.”
Garrett stood abruptly.
“This is ridiculous.”
Martin looked sick.
“The system shows your credentials, Rosalie.”
“From what device?”
He checked.
Then looked toward the opposite end of the room.
“Executive assistant workstation fourteen.”
Bianca’s workstation.
She stood again.
“I never used Rosalie’s credentials.”
“I believe you,” Garrett said immediately.
Too immediately.
I turned toward him.
“You’re very generous with belief today.”
My attorney, Caroline Pierce, had been waiting downstairs.
I texted two words.
Come up.
Garrett saw me.
“No outside attorneys.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have put divorce papers beside corporate documents.”
Thirty seconds later, Caroline entered carrying a leather folder.
She handed copies to each director.
“What is this?” Garrett demanded.
“The original shareholder agreement,” she replied.
He laughed.
“We’ve amended it five times.”
“Four.”
Garrett’s smile disappeared.
Caroline opened to Section 11.4.
“No dilution of any founding shareholder below twenty-five percent without that shareholder’s written consent while secured founder debt remains outstanding.”
I watched Garrett understand.
My thirty percent could not legally become five.
Not while Northbridge still held the debt.
Not without my real signature.
Caroline then placed another page in front of him.
“The consent you submitted yesterday is fraudulent.”
Garrett stared at it.
I hadn’t seen it before.
My signature appeared perfectly at the bottom.
Above it, I supposedly agreed to dilution.
Then Martin spoke.
“There’s metadata.”
Nobody moved.
“The document was created last night.”
He looked at Bianca.
“On her office computer.”
Bianca turned white.
But Caroline wasn’t looking at Bianca.
She was looking at Garrett.
“More importantly, Garrett emailed the unsigned template to that computer at 11:42 p.m.”
Garrett’s mouth opened.
Before he could answer, the boardroom doors opened again.
Christopher Albright walked inside.
The man Garrett had just claimed to have personally convinced to finance Blue Horizon.
Christopher ignored him.
He walked directly to me.
“Rosalie.”
“Christopher.”
Then he turned toward the shareholders.
“For the record, Blue Horizon has never been contingent on Mr. West.”
Garrett stared.
May you like
Christopher continued.
“It has always been contingent on her.”
