Chapter 5 - The Bleeding Empire
The room exploded into utter chaos.
“Frozen?!” Arthur from Crescent Steel shouted, his face turning bright red. “His accounts are frozen?! Where is my $1.2 million?!”
“Arthur, listen to me!” Daniel pleaded, holding his hands up in panic. “We can work this out! We have receivables coming in from the city project next month—”
“The city project was canceled three days ago, Mr. Caldwell,” Thomas Cole interrupted calmly, pulling another paper from his stack. “Due to non-performance and failure to maintain required bonding levels—which were also underwritten by Ashcroft Holdings.”
Patricia sank back into the leather couch, clutching her chest, her regal mask completely shattered. “My God... Daniel... what have you done?”
Ryan ran up to Daniel, grabbing his brother by the collar of his shirt. “You told me the company was fine! You told me my salary was guaranteed for the next three years! I just bought a condo in Bellevue based on your promise!”
“Get off me, Ryan!” Daniel shoved his brother back violently.
I stood by the doorway, watching the three of them turn on each other like wild animals trapped in a falling cage.
Daniel turned his frantic, bloodshot eyes toward me. He walked around his desk, falling to his knees on the carpet right in front of my high heels.
“Emily... please,” Daniel sobbed, clutching at the hem of my trousers. “Please don't do this. I’m sorry. I swear to God I’m sorry! I’ll apologize on my knees! I’ll make Ryan and my mother apologize to you right now! Just call off the receiver! Don't ruin my father’s legacy!”
I looked down at the man who, less than seventy-two hours ago, had slapped my face across a dining table and demanded I serve his arrogant brother mashed potatoes.
“You didn't care about your father’s legacy when you spent $120,000 of corporate funds on a country club membership last month, Daniel,” I said softly, my voice carrying into every corner of the silent room. “You didn't care about your legacy when you raised your hand against the woman who was staying up until 2:00 AM re-balancing your company’s ledger books.”
“Emily, please!” he wept, tears streaming down his face.
“Arthur,” I said, looking over Daniel’s head at the owner of Crescent Steel. “If you want to recover any portion of your $1.2 million, I suggest your legal counsel join my receiver at the county courthouse at 10:00 AM. First come, first served on asset liquidation.”
Arthur took one look at Daniel weeping on the floor, nodded sharply at me, and ran out of the office to call his attorneys.
“Patricia,” I said, turning my gaze to his mother, who was sitting paralyzed on the couch. “The house in Mercer Island—the one you live in—was placed as secondary collateral for Daniel’s $800,000 note. You have thirty days to pack your belongings before the liquidation sale.”
Patricia let out a strangled shriek, clutching her throat. “You... you evil, heartless woman! We took you into our family!”
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“No, Patricia,” I said, leaning down until I was eye-to-eye with her. “You took my money, used my intelligence, and thought you could beat me into submission because I was quiet at your dinner table.”
I stood up, turned on my heel, and walked out of Caldwell Development for the last time.
