Chapter 7 - The Ambush
I slipped the flash drive into my evening clutch beside my phone.
When I stepped back into the library corridor, the air was cool and smelled of old leather bindings and pipe tobacco. At the far end of the hall, near the grandfather clock, two figures were standing close together in the shadows of the walnut paneling.
Colin and Elena.
They weren't kissing tonight.
Colin’s face was red, his posture aggressive, his finger pointed directly at Elena’s chest.
"You said Henderson wasn't going to look at the Clean Energy bid until January!" Colin hissed, his voice muffled by the heavy carpets but sharp enough to carry. "You told me we had three months to finalize the Monacan transfers before Arthur went public!"
Elena stood with her arms crossed over her black silk dress, her chin tilted up, looking at him with the cool amusement of a trainer watching a dog bark through a fence.
"Plans change, Colin," she said smoothly. "My father decided the timing was right tonight. The executive committee is voting on the retainer tomorrow morning. Don't look so terrified. You're still on track for partner, aren't you?"
"If Henderson sees the Delaware filings—"
"Henderson isn't going to see the Delaware filings unless someone shows them to him," Elena said, reaching out to pat his lapel with two crimson-tipped fingers. "And who would do that? Your little wife at home? The one who can't even manage dinner at a wedding without crying into her stroller?"
Colin’s jaw clenched. "Don't bring Clara into this."
"Why not?" Elena purred. "She’s the one who makes you look respectable. Keep her happy, Colin. Buy her another minivan. Let her play mommy in the suburbs while you and I run the energy desk in D.C. Isn't that what we agreed on?"
I stood in the center of the hallway, ten feet away, letting the silence settle between us.
Then I spoke.
"She forgot to mention the Bahamas account, Colin."
Both of them froze.
Colin spun around so violently his heel slipped against the polished floorboards. Elena didn't move, but her eyes narrowed, the amusement instantly vanishing behind a wall of cold, razor-sharp assessment.
"Clara," Colin stammered, his face turning an ash-gray color that matched his father's old suits. "What... what are you doing back here? I told you to stay with Harrison."
"I was talking to Celia Benton," I said, taking two slow, deliberate steps toward them. The sapphire velvet skirt whispered against the carpet. "She had the most fascinating story about Suite 4 at the vineyard. And an even more fascinating piece of security footage."
Colin’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"And then," I continued, turning my gaze to Elena Vance, "I had the most productive phone call with Rachel Sterling. Do you know Rachel, Elena? She specializes in high-asset forensic accounting. She spent this afternoon with the Chancery Court in Wilmington."
Elena’s arms dropped from her chest. Her posture went rigid as stone.
"What did you do?" Elena whispered.
"Rachel froze the Monacan Capital accounts," I said, keeping my voice conversational, polite, almost pleasant. "And the Tidewater accounts. And the secondary escrow account in Nassau registered to *Vance Environmental Consulting.*"
"You're lying," Elena said, but her voice lacked its iron edge. Her fingers twitched toward her evening bag.
"Check your email, Elena," I said. "The temporary restraining order was signed by Judge Gausman at four-fifteen. Colin’s three hundred and forty thousand dollars isn't going to fund your breakaway firm. It's currently impounded as marital property of the Miller estate."
Colin looked between me and Elena, his eyes wide with wild, uncomprehending panic.
"Clara... what are you talking about? What Delaware accounts? What are you saying?"
"Shut up, Colin," Elena snapped, her face twisting into sudden, venomous disgust as she glared at him. "You idiot. You didn't secure your home network? You let your wife access the Delaware corporate IDs?"
"I didn't access your network, Elena," I said, looking directly into my husband’s hollow, terrified eyes. "You gave them to me on Saturday afternoon."
"I... I never gave you anything!" Colin choked out.
"You gave me Julianna Vance’s raw proof gallery," I said softly. "The one where you took off your wedding ring at six-forty-one. The one where you kissed her against the conservatory pillar at six-forty-four while you were texting me that Miles needed you. And the one where you told Hannah to pack my dinner in a box so you could clear the room for your mistress."
Colin stumbled back half a step, his shoulder hitting the walnut bookcase.
"Clara... listen to me... that was... it was a mistake... I was drunk, Miles was—"
"Miles had nothing to do with it," a deep, booming voice echoed from the end of the corridor.
We all turned.
Harrison Henderson was standing at the entrance to the library, flanked by Arthur Vance and two other members of the firm's executive committee. Beside them stood Celia Benton, her arm tucked firmly through Miles’s elbow. Miles was looking at Colin with an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
"Harrison," Colin whispered, his voice cracking like dry wood.
Henderson didn't look at Colin. He looked at Arthur Vance, then at Elena, and finally his cold, hawkish gaze settled on me.
May you like
"Mrs. Miller," Henderson said, his voice ringing through the quiet corridor with the weight of an iron gavel. "I believe your attorney, Ms. Sterling, is waiting for us in the private dining room upstairs. Perhaps you and I should have that conversation about stability now."
***
