Bankrupting My Husband’s Fake Perfect Family Chapter 07

Bankrupting My Husband’s Fake Perfect Family Chapter 07: The Boardroom Slaughter

“He just bypassed the lobby security,” a man in a gray suit announced from the doorway.

“How did he get past the turntables?” Sebastian asked, not looking up from his open briefcase.

“He used the freight elevator. He is on his way up to this floor.”

I sat in the leather observer chair at the far end of the glass-walled conference room. “He thinks he still has time to authorize a wire transfer.”

“He lacks the funds to buy a cup of coffee,” Sebastian replied.

Sebastian snapped his briefcase shut. He pulled out a thick stack of printed ledgers and walked toward the head of the mahogany table.

Out in the hallway, the elevator doors slid apart.

Julian marched down the corridor. He wore the same blue dress shirt from yesterday. The fabric was wrinkled, and his tie hung loose around his collar.

Two security guards stepped in front of the glass boardroom doors, blocking his path.

“Step aside,” Julian commanded, pointing a finger at the taller guard. “I have a board meeting to attend.”

“Your keycard is deactivated, Mr. Miller,” the guard stated.

“I am the Chief Financial Officer!” Julian shouted. He shoved the guard’s chest.

The guard stood firm. He grabbed Julian’s wrist and twisted it backward.

“Release me!” Julian snarled, his face flushing a deep, angry red.

Inside the room, the Chairman cleared his throat. He glared at the commotion outside the glass. “Mr. Thorne, what is the meaning of this disruption?”

Sebastian tossed the heavy stack of ledgers onto the center of the table. The loud smack echoed against the walls, silencing the room.

“I represent the majority shareholder,” Sebastian addressed the board. “We are executing an emergency termination.”

The Chairman frowned. “On what grounds?”

“Corporate theft,” Sebastian answered smoothly. He slid the top file across the polished wood. “Julian Miller diverted four point two million dollars into a private offshore account.”

“That is a serious accusation,” a woman near the window murmured.

“The routing numbers match a Cayman shell company,” Sebastian continued. “These are his personal authorization codes.”

Three board members leaned forward. They flipped through the pages, their eyes scanning the highlighted bank transfers.

“Verify them,” Sebastian invited.

“The timestamps match his login history,” the Chairman confirmed. His expression hardened into pure disgust.

Outside the room, Julian slammed his fists against the glass wall.

“Open this door!” he roared.

His frantic gaze swept the long table. Then, he saw me.

I sat perfectly still in my chair. I wore a crimson tailored suit, chosen specifically to stand out against the drab corporate gray.

Julian’s eyes widened. He pressed his face against the glass.

“Clara!” he screamed, his voice muffled but entirely audible. “What did you tell them? Tell them to let me in!”

I did not answer. I picked up my porcelain teacup from the side table. I took a sip of Earl Grey tea.

Julian pounded the glass with both fists. The thick pane shuddered.

“You lying bitch!” Julian howled. “I will ruin you!”

“Call the authorities,” the Chairman ordered, waving a hand at his assistant.

“Already done,” Sebastian said. “All in favor of immediate termination?”

Every single hand around the table shot up into the air.

“Unanimous,” Sebastian declared. “The company will hand this evidence over to the commercial fraud division today.”

In the hallway, the head of security grabbed Julian by the collar.

“You are trespassing,” the guard growled.

He yanked the corporate lanyard from Julian’s neck. The plastic ID badge snapped off. It clattered against the tile floor, sliding away.

Julian stared down at the broken badge. His authority, his status, his entire carefully crafted identity disappeared in a single second.

I watched his shoulders collapse. I felt zero pity. The betrayal I suffered over the last decade crystallized into a vicious sense of victory. I smiled, a small, sharp curve of my lips.

Sebastian strolled to the back of the room. He stopped directly behind my chair.

He bent down. The fine wool of his suit jacket brushed against my bare arm.

“Do you like the view?” Sebastian whispered. His warm breath swept over my ear.

I did not shrink away. I tilted my head backward, exposing the long line of my throat to him.

“I want him to lose more,” I murmured.

“Greedy,” Sebastian teased softly. “I approve.”

“He deserves total ruin.”

“Keep watching,” Sebastian instructed.

The elevator chime rang sharply through the hall.

Four uniformed police officers marched out. They carried handcuffs and batons, their eyes locked on the disturbance.

Julian spun around. He saw the silver badges pinned to their chests. The remaining color drained from his face entirely.

“Mr. Miller,” the lead officer said, stepping forward. “You are under arrest for grand larceny and corporate embezzlement.”

“No!” Julian yelled, his voice cracking with sudden panic. “It is a mistake! My wife set me up!”

He shoved the security guard hard and bolted toward the emergency stairwell.

He did not make it three steps.

The largest officer lunged. He tackled Julian around the waist. They crashed onto the hard floor with a heavy thud.

Julian’s chin slammed into the tile. A sharp cry escaped his mouth.

The cop pinned Julian’s back with his knee. He wrenched Julian’s arms behind him. The steel handcuffs ratcheted shut with a loud, metallic zip.

During the violent struggle, a black smartphone slipped out of Julian’s pants pocket.

It skidded across the hallway. It hit the bottom edge of the glass wall, stopping right in front of my shoes.

The screen lit up. A new message alert filled the display.

*Chloe: Honey, the hospital says the boy’s medical report is bad. We need a hundred grand for surgery.*

I stared at the glowing words through the glass. A hundred thousand dollars. A sick child.

Julian thrashed under the cop’s heavy weight. He turned his head sideways against the floor. He saw his phone. He saw me reading the screen.

“Clara!” Julian sobbed, his arrogance completely shattered. “Please!”