Chapter 6 - The Collapse of Oakridge
By Monday morning, the fall of Cole Bennett was front-page news in every financial newspaper in the state.
BENNETT BIOMEDICAL INVESTIGATED FOR FEDERAL MEDICAL FRAUD.
NORTHBRIDGE HEALTH CANCELS $25M CONTRACT AMID FORGERY ALLEGATIONS.
Cole sat on the edge of the velvet sofa in the Oakridge townhouse, surrounded by unwashed coffee cups and half-eaten takeout containers. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the gray morning rain.
His phone had been ringing continuously for forty-eight hours.
Investors demanding immediate refunds. Bank managers notifying him of frozen corporate accounts. Process servers leaving legal summonses taped to the front door.
Sloane walked into the living room wearing a silk robe, her face red and swollen from hours of crying.
“My father just called,” Sloane sobbed, throwing a sofa cushion across the room. “He’s been suspended by the hospital board! They’re auditing his expense reports from the last three years! He told me to pack my bags and move back home!”
Cole didn't look up from his laptop. “Tell him to wait. I’m working on a refinancing proposal with an offshore group.”
“What refinancing proposal?!” Sloane screamed, her voice shrill, ringing through the townhouse. “There is no proposal, Cole! You’re ruined! You owe six million dollars in personal guarantees! My dad said the bank is foreclosing on this townhouse by Friday!”
Cole finally lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, dark rings framing his face, his clothes wrinkled and smelling of stale alcohol.
“Stop screaming at me!” Cole yelled back, slamming his laptop shut. “I did this for you! I built this company for us! For our son!”
“Don't you dare put this on me!” Sloane spat back, her hands on her hips, her eyes filled with pure venom. “You told me you were a genius! You told me you owned the heart valve patent! You lied to me, Cole! You’re nothing but a cheap con man who lived off his surgeon wife!”
Cole stood up, taking a sharp step toward her. “I gave you a three-hundred-thousand-dollar townhouse! I gave you diamond bracelets! Where do you think that money came from? It came from my work!”
“It came from Claire’s bank account!” Sloane shouted. “And now she’s taking it all back! I’m leaving, Cole! I’m taking my clothes and I’m going to my father’s house in Naples!”
“You’re not going anywhere with my son!” Cole roared, grabbing her arm.
Sloane slapped his hand away with terrifying force, stepping back, her face contorted in disgust.
“Your son?” Sloane let out a loud, hysterical laugh that sounded like shattered glass. “You really are an idiot, aren't you?”
Cole froze. His blood went instantly cold. “What did you just say?”
Sloane straightened her robe, her eyes cold, cruel, and completely devoid of the sweet, innocent affection she had shown him for eight months.
“There is no son, Cole,” Sloane said flatly.
Cole stared at her, his mouth opening and closing without sound. “What... what are you talking about? You’re seven months pregnant! I’ve been to the ultrasound appointments!”
Sloane reached down, unzipped the side of her silk robe, and reached inside.
With a swift, practiced motion, she pulled out a flesh-colored, silicone prosthetic bump, tossing it onto the coffee table between them.
It hit the wooden surface with a soft, dull thud.
Sloane’s waist was completely flat.
Cole looked at the silicone bump, then at Sloane, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow hitches. His brain refused to process the image in front of him.
“You... you...” Cole stammered, his knees shaking so violently he had to grab the arm of the sofa to stay upright. “The ultrasounds... the photos...”
“My cousin is an ultrasound technician at St. Jude’s,” Sloane sneered, pulling a leather suitcase out from the hall closet. “I paid her five hundred dollars for a set of printouts from a third-trimester scan last October.”
“Why?!” Cole screamed, his voice breaking into a high-pitched, pathetic wail. “Why would you do this to me?!”
“Because my father needed a medical tech company to justify his offshore grant transfers, Cole!” Sloane declared, zipping her suitcase with a sharp zip. “And you were the easiest mark in the city. You were so desperate to feel important, so eager to believe that a younger, prettier woman wanted you instead of your brilliant wife, that you didn't even ask for a real blood test.”
She picked up her handbag, looking down at him with utter, unadulterated contempt.
May you like
“You sacrificed your real daughter for a piece of rubber,” Sloane whispered, pointing at the silicone bump on the table. “Enjoy the bankruptcy, Cole.”
She pulled her suitcase behind her, stepped out the front door, and slammed it shut, leaving Cole Bennett kneeling on the rug beside a piece of fake stomach, sobbing in the dark.
