My CEO’s Wife Canceled My Flight Then Lost Everything Chapter 07

My CEO’s Wife Canceled My Flight Then Lost Everything Chapter 07

Horizon issued a company-wide statement that same night.

Grant Whitmore had been placed on administrative leave pending an internal board investigation and

regulatory review.

Vanessa Whitmore had been removed as Brand Director and barred from the office.

The board would separately pursue damages arising from the loss of the Bluewater deal.

After the statement went out, the company chat went dead.

Then the people who had insulted me the loudest started messaging me one by one.

Employee 1: [Claire, I just got caught up in what everyone was saying.]

Employee 2: [Do you really have to turn over the chat screenshots? I have a mortgage.]

Employee 3: [We’re all coworkers. There’s no reason to go this far.]

I didn’t respond to a single one.

The first time around, I’d knelt in the hallway and explained myself until my voice disappeared.

No one had thought they were going too far then.

Now they were scared.

The investigation moved quickly.

Mostly because Sabrina turned on Grant first.

She wasn’t a Horizon employee.

She was an outside consultant Grant had been keeping on the side.

She had apparently believed that once Vanessa was out of the picture, the pregnancy would guarantee she’d

replace her.

Instead, the second regulators arrived, she handed over text messages, payment records, and documents

showing that Grant had bought her a house and a car, then buried some of the expenses in vendor

reimbursements.

So much for true love.

Vanessa had no intention of going down alone either.

She turned over the guest lists from the Riverton dinners, gift logs, and statements from her personal

accounts.

Grant responded by accusing her of running the bribery scheme on her own and using Horizon’s name

without authorization.

The husband and wife tore each other apart through their attorneys.

The more they fought, the more evidence surfaced.

Sham contracts.

Shell vendors.

Fraudulent invoices.

Records showing payments to relatives of selection committee members.

The board was furious.

Richard personally chaired an emergency meeting.

The directors voted to remove Grant from the board and authorized Horizon to pursue damages against both

him and Vanessa.

After the meeting, Diane handed me a manila envelope.

“Rachel asked me to give you this.”

Rachel Bennett.

Grant’s ex-wife.

In my last life, I’d received an anonymous package from her the day after I was forced to resign.

Inside had been Vanessa’s old employment records and copies of several suspicious transactions.

But by then, the online abuse had become so vicious that I was afraid to leave my apartment.

Three days later, I died in the rain.

This time, I contacted Rachel during the first week after waking up back in time.

After hearing my story, she’d said only one thing.

“Wait until they start tearing each other apart. Then hand over the evidence.”

I opened the envelope.

The first document was an old, yellowed employment form.

Name: Erin Reed.

Position: Administrative Assistant.

Company: Meridian Holdings.

Direct Supervisor: Grant Whitmore.

The young woman in the employee photo wore her hair in a low ponytail.

Her white blouse looked cheap and overwashed.

Her eyes were timid.

Slowly, that face aligned with the polished socialite Vanessa Whitmore had become.

The old-money family story was fake.

The elite university credentials were fake.

The trust-fund heiress act was fake.

Eight years earlier, she’d simply been Grant’s assistant at his previous company.

She used late-night briefings, overtime, and one-on-one business trips to get closer and closer to him.

Eventually, she worked her way into Grant and Rachel’s marriage.

After Rachel was forced out, Erin changed her name, padded her résumé, invented a pedigree, and rebuilt

herself as someone else.

Then she became Mrs. Whitmore.

Once she’d made it to the top, she spent years accusing every young female assistant of trying to seduce the

boss.

I stared at the photograph.

Suddenly, I understood.

Vanessa wasn’t really afraid another woman would steal her husband.

She was afraid of seeing her old self reflected back at her.

I thought the irony had peaked.

I was wrong.

On the day of the board’s formal misconduct hearing, Vanessa knelt outside the company entrance and

demanded to see me.