Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Christmas Past
The next morning, the headlines across the financial and social media sectors were brutal. “Caldwell Innovations CEO Fired at the Altar by Ex-Wife.” “The Blizzard Bride: How Grace Caldwell Reclaimed Her Empire.” The viral videos recorded by the wedding guests had already amassed millions of views on Facebook and TikTok.
I sat in the spacious, sunlit office of my new headquarters, holding a warm cup of coffee while Sophie slept soundly in a bassinet next to my desk. Arthur Vance sat across from me, a satisfied smile on his face.
"The board approved your reinstatement as Chairman and CEO with a unanimous vote this morning, Grace," Arthur said, sliding a corporate resolution across the table. "Ethan’s remaining 40% shares have been frozen by the court pending the investigation into his embezzlement. He couldn't even afford to pay the retainer for his defense attorney this morning."
"Good," I said, signing the document. "What about the criminal charges?"
"The police are reviewing the security footage from the night of the blizzard. Mrs. Ramirez gave her statement, and the paramedics confirmed Sophie's core temperature when they arrived. The DA is looking at felony child abandonment and reckless endangerment charges for both Ethan and his mother."
A soft knock on the door interrupted us. My assistant stepped in, looking nervous. "Ma'am... Ethan is downstairs in the lobby. He doesn't have an appointment, and security is holding him, but he says he won't leave until he speaks with you."
I looked down at Sophie, then back at Arthur. "Let him up. Let's see what the tiger looks like without his claws."
When Ethan walked into my office, he looked unrecognizable. The custom-tailored tuxedo from the night before was gone, replaced by a rummaged-through jacket and wrinkled jeans. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hands were trembling.
"Grace," he breathed, stopping a few feet from my desk. "Please. The banks froze my credit cards. Sabrina left me this morning—she took the car and checked into a hotel under her dad's name, and her dad canceled the investment. My mother is staying in a cheap motel, and she’s having panic attacks. You've had your revenge. Please, don't do this to us."
"This isn't revenge, Ethan," I said, leaning back in my leather chair. "This is just accountability. You reap what you sow."
"I was stressed!" he shouted, tears finally spilling over his eyelids. "The company was failing, and Sabrina was threatening to expose our affair if I didn't marry her! I didn't mean to leave you in the storm, Grace. I thought you would just go to a hotel! I didn't think—"
May you like
"That's your problem, Ethan. You never thought about anyone but yourself. You threw your three-day-old daughter into a blizzard because she was an inconvenience to your new lifestyle. If Mrs. Ramirez hadn't looked out her window, Sophie would be dead. Do you understand that?"
He dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. It was the exact same posture he had assumed the night before, but this time, there was no audience to pity him.
