Chapter 6 - The Cornered Tycoon
At 9:00 AM on Thursday, Grant Hart walked into the law offices of Reed & Sterling looking ten years older than he had three days ago.
His navy suit was wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled faintly of stale bourbon. He was staying at an airport motel after the locks at the Belle Meade house were changed and his corporate credit cards were declined at the Ritz-Carlton.
Madison Cole sat beside him, looking frantic, her designer purse clutched tightly in her lap. Her high-society composure had completely evaporated.
Evelyn sat at the head of the conference table, flanked by Thomas Reed and Sarah Chen.
"This is intimidation!" Grant yelled the moment he sat down, slamming his fist onto the glass table. "Evelyn, I built that company! I gave eleven years of my life to Hartwell Hotels! You can't just throw me out on the street like a dog!"
"You didn't build it, Grant," Evelyn said quietly, pushing a bound leather document across the table toward him. "You spent eleven years spending my father's money, taking credit for my operational strategies, and sleeping with your marketing consultant."
Sarah Chen slid a set of financial printouts in front of Madison.
"Miss Cole," Sarah said flatly. "Account number 4490 at First Caribbean Bank in Grand Cayman. Four point two million dollars transferred from Hartwell renovation funds. Do you recognize these transactions?"
Madison’s face drained of all color. She looked at Grant with wide, terrified eyes. "Grant... you told me those were your private executive bonus funds! You said it was completely legal!"
"Shut up, Madison!" Grant panicked, turning to Thomas. "Thomas, listen to me... this is a domestic dispute! We can settle this out of court!"
"It ceased to be a domestic dispute the moment you committed federal wire fraud, Grant," Thomas warned, leaning his elbows on the table. "The United States Attorney's Office for the Middle District of Tennessee takes a very keen interest in corporate embezzlement exceeding one million dollars."
"What do you want, Evelyn?" Grant wept, dropping his head into his hands, his swagger entirely broken. "What do you want from me?"
Evelyn leaned forward, resting her hands on the table.
"Item one," Evelyn said clearly. "An immediate wire transfer returning the entire four point two million dollars from your Cayman account back to the Hartwell operational ledger before 12:00 PM today."
"Okay! Fine!" Grant choked out. "We'll transfer it back!"
"Item two," Evelyn continued. "Grant, you will execute a full surrender of your forty percent Class-B non-controlling equity in Hartwell Holdings back to the trust for the sum of one dollar."
Grant lifted his head, staring at her in absolute disbelief. "One dollar?! That equity is worth two hundred million dollars!"
"It was worth two hundred million dollars before you embezzled company funds, Grant," Evelyn reminded him coldly. "If you sign the surrender, I will not file criminal charges with the Department of Justice. If you refuse, Thomas will walk these forensic files across the street to the federal courthouse in fifteen minutes."
Silence descended on the conference room.
Grant looked at the thick stack of evidence, then at Madison, who was weeping quietly into a tissue, and finally at Evelyn.
In Evelyn’s eyes, he saw no anger. No hatred. No passion.
May you like
He saw only the cold, unyielding judgment of a woman who had given him eleven years of her life, only to watch him burn it down for a cheap thrill and an illusion of power.
With shaking hands, Grant picked up the silver pen.
