Chapter 4 - The Rats Desert the Sinking Ship
Brenda had been watching the stock tickers and the business news feeds. She was a gold-digger, and she was very, very good at her job. The moment the news broke that Whitmore Holdings was a hollow shell, she didn't just leave—she staged a heist.
Andrew’s phone was flooded with a single text message from her: “I’m sorry, Andrew, but I can’t be with a man who is legally liable for corporate fraud. I’ve already spoken to the lawyers. I’m moving on.”
She hadn't just left; she had taken his private watch collection, the last of his petty cash, and—crucially—she had been the one to sign the documents for the illegal loans Andrew had taken out behind my back.
"She’s gone, Andrew," I said, walking closer to him. "She realized the truth before you did. She knew that the moment I pulled the plug, you weren't just poor—you were a target for the SEC."
"The SEC?" Margaret shrieked.
"Oh, yes," I said, tapping my tablet. "Andrew, did you really think I didn't notice the embezzlement? The 'charity' funds you and Brenda were funneling into that offshore account? I kept the records. I didn't stop you because I wanted to see how deep the hole went. I wanted to see if you would ever come clean."
"I was protecting you!" Andrew lied, his voice cracking.
"You were stealing from your own investors," I corrected. "And as the primary shareholder of the shell company, I’ve already turned the evidence over to the federal authorities. They’re downstairs, Andrew. Waiting for you."
The color drained from his face completely. He looked at the door, then back at me, seeing me for the first time—not as a timid wife, but as a predator who had finally decided to hunt.
"Mariana, please," he whimpered. "We have a history!"
May you like
"No," I said, turning my back on him. "We have a mistake. And I’m done paying for it."
The security guards dragged him and his mother out of the office. I could hear Margaret screaming about how she was a Whitmore, how this was an outrage, but the sounds faded as they were hauled toward the freight elevators, destined for a very different kind of reality than the one they were used to.
