Chapter 7 - The Unravelling
By the second week of October, the scandal had migrated from the business pages to the local gossip columns, feeding on the carcass of Grant’s ruined reputation like scavengers at a feast.
Fallen Corporate Heir Left Bankrupt and Jilted as Fiancee’s Fraud Scheme Unravels.
The headlines were breathless, detailing how Savannah—or Sarah Jenkins—had not only been carrying a child of questionable paternity (DNA testing requested by her previous legal entanglement had already cast serious doubt on Grant’s exclusive fatherhood) but had systematically looted over two hundred thousand dollars from various corporate executives across the tristate area using the exact same playbook.
I was sitting in my favorite corner booth at The Pierre, enjoying a quiet lunch with my attorney and longtime friend Marcus Vance, when he slid a fresh dossier across the table.
"Thought you might find this amusing," Marcus said, taking a sip of his martini. "Sarah Jenkins—excuse me, Savannah Cole—entered a plea bargain this morning with the federal prosecutor’s office in Brooklyn."
I raised an eyebrow, scanning the top page of the legal brief. "Already? She folds remarkably fast for a mastermind."
"When you realize your co-conspirators are singing opera while you’re trying to hum a tune, you cooperate," Marcus chuckled. "She gave up every single detail of her financial scam, including the boutique where she 'accidentally' ran into Grant back in August. Turns out, it wasn't an accident at all. She tracked his corporate schedule for three weeks, figured out his credit card spending habits, and engineered the entire meet-cute because she knew he was a high-net-worth mark trying to expand his asset portfolio."
I had to smile, shaking my head slightly. "So my husband wasn't even smart enough to be a successful adulterer. He was just a middle-aged cliché with a platinum card."
"Precisely," Marcus agreed. "And as for Grant himself? He’s currently crashing on the sofa of a former college roommate who is three months behind on his own mortgage in Queens. The corporate board filed a formal civil suit against him yesterday morning for gross fiduciary negligence and corporate asset misappropriation. He’s facing up to eight years of disbarment from corporate governance, and his personal credit score currently resembles a flatlining EKG."
I looked out the window at the autumn leaves swirling down Fifth Avenue. The city felt vibrant, wide open, and full of limitless possibility.
"Let them sue," I said softly. "There's nothing left to take that I haven't already legally secured under Aegis Holdings. The clean-up is almost complete."
"Speaking of clean-ups," Marcus said, leaning forward with a knowing glint in his eye. "What are your plans for October eighteenth? The original date of the wedding, if I recall correctly."
May you like
I took a slow sip of my sparkling water, my smile widening just a fraction.
"Oh, Marcus," I said lightly. "I'm hosting a very exclusive gala at the Plaza for the board of directors of Aegis Holdings. We're celebrating our highest quarterly earnings in five years. And you are, of course, invited as guest of honor."
