Chapter 4 - Playing the Fool
The next morning, Michael walked into his sprawling mansion in Atlanta. The grand entrance hall, with its marble floors and crystal chandeliers, felt cold and hollow. Sitting on the white velvet sofa in the living room was Ashley, casually sipping espresso while reading a fashion magazine.
“Ah, the prodigal fiancé returns,” she said without looking up. “I assumed you’d see reason. Did you enjoy your little trip to the slums?”
Michael forced his facial muscles to relax, adopting an expression of defeated resignation. He dropped his briefcase on the floor and slumped into an armchair opposite her. “You win, Ashley. You have the company, you have my estate. I can’t fight your lawyers, and I won’t risk losing everything I’ve built.”
Ashley set her espresso cup down, a slow, triumphant grin spreading across her face. “Smart boy. I knew you’d realize that a couple of bastard children and a washed-up ex-wife aren’t worth poverty.”
Michael clenched his fists beneath his knees, burying the urge to strangle her. “I have conditions,” he said, keeping his voice steady and flat.
“You’re in no position to make conditions, Michael.”
“If we are going to get married next month, I want the legal chaos stopped,” Michael said, playing his card. “Unfreeze my personal accounts. It looks terrible to the board of directors if the CEO’s credit lines are frozen. It sparks rumors of financial instability. If the stock drops, your 49% share becomes worthless too.”
Ashley narrowed her eyes, calculating. Michael knew her weakness: greed. She cared about the money and power above all else.
“Fine,” Ashley said after a moment. “I will have my lawyers lift the temporary freeze on your personal checking. But the power of attorney stays in place until the day we say 'I do.' And the moment we are married, those twins are to be legally adopted out to a family in another state. You will never see them again. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” Michael lied, the word tasting like poison on his tongue. “We have a deal.”
For the next three days, Michael played the part of the dutiful, defeated partner. He attended wedding cake tastings, approved floral arrangements, and sat next to Ashley at corporate dinners. To the high-society world of Atlanta, they were the perfect power couple. But underneath the surface, Michael was working furiously with David Reynolds.
With his personal accounts unfrozen, Michael secretly funneled thousands of dollars to David’s cyber-forensics expert, a man known only as "Apex."
On Thursday night, while Ashley was out at a bridal shower, Michael entered his private home office. He locked the door and dialed David.
“I’m at my home computer, David. I’ve bypassed the firewall. Is Apex ready?”
“He’s ready,” David’s voice came through the speaker. “Insert the flash drive I gave you into the main tower. It will create a secure VPN bridge directly into Carter Enterprises’ financial servers. Once Apex is in, he can track the original source of the forged bank transfers that framed Emily.”
Michael plugged in the drive. The screen flashed violently with lines of code. He watched, his heart hammering against his ribs, as the progress bar slowly ticked upward.
10%... 30%... 50%...
Suddenly, the handle of the office door jiggled.
May you like
Michael’s breath caught in his throat. He looked at the clock. Ashley wasn’t supposed to be home for another two hours.
“Michael?” Ashley’s voice came from the other side of the door, sharp and suspicious. “Why is this door locked? What are you doing in there?”
