Chapter 6

　　~ Nathan ~

　　I pressed the button for the top floor of the corporate tower. The elevator doors slid shut with a soft hiss, leaving me alone with my reflection in the mirror walls. My tie was pulled loose at my collar. My fingers were still shaking from the weight of the pen I had used downstairs.

　　I had just signed the papers. I had handed my wife over to the police.

　　When the elevator doors opened on the top floor, the hallway was completely dark and empty. The usual hum of computers and chatter was gone. My leather shoes made loud, heavy clicking sounds against the marble floor as I walked toward my office.

　　My chest felt hollow, like somebody had scooped out my insides with a spoon. My stomach hurt, tied tight in a hard knot. I kept telling myself that I had saved the company. I had stopped a massive crime. So why did my hands feel so cold?

　　"You did the right thing, son."

　　I stopped in my tracks. My father was standing by the big floor-to-ceiling window in my office. He held a glass of water in his hand. He turned around slowly, his gray suit unwrinkled, his posture straight and proud.

　　"It does not feel like the right thing, Dad," I said. My voice sounded raspy, like I had been shouting for hours. I walked over to my desk and leaned against the edge of the wood just to keep my legs from giving out. "She was my wife."

　　"She was a threat to our family legacy, Nathan," Arthur said, stepping closer to me. He set his glass down on my desk with a firm click. He placed a heavy, warm hand on my shoulder and squeezed hard. "A real leader makes hard choices. You chose the Wolfe name over a woman who tried to rob us blind. I have never been prouder of you than I am right now."

　　I looked down at his shoes, unable to look him in the eye. "The police took her out through the back doors. There were cameras everywhere."

　　"Let the cameras record it," Arthur said, his voice cold and flat. "It shows the world that Wolfe Enterprises does not protect criminals, even if they sleep in our own beds. You protected four thousand employees today, Nathan. You protected your grandfather's name. Never forget that."

　　I swallowed hard, trying to clear the dry lump in my throat. "She looked at me before they put her in the back of the car, Dad. She looked like she didn't even know who I was."

　　"Because her mask fell off," Arthur said sharply. He let go of my shoulder and adjusted his cuffs. "She came from nothing, Nathan. People like her look at wealth like a pie they need to steal a piece of. You gave her everything, and she took advantage of your kindness. Put her out of your mind."

　　Before I could answer, the office door pushed open. Julian walked inside carrying a thick black leather folder under his arm. He looked tired, his hair slightly messy, but his face was calm.

　　"Arthur," Julian nodded to my father first. Then he walked over to me, pulling a small paper cup of water from his pocket and setting it near my hand. "Drink some water, Nathan. You look like you're about to collapse."

　　I took a small sip. The water was lukewarm, but it helped my throat. "Is it done downstairs?" I asked.

　　"The federal officers have her in custody at the district holding center," Julian said, opening his folder on my desk. "The judge will set bail tomorrow morning, but I am already working to make sure this case stays locked up tight."

　　"What do you mean?" I asked, looking up at him.

　　Julian pulled out three white paper documents stamped with red ink. "Isabella's court-appointed lawyers will probably try to request an immediate freeze on our internal server records to build a defense. They will look for software errors or claim the digital signatures were hacked."

　　"Could they have been hacked?" I asked, a sudden spark of hope flare up in my chest. "Julian, are we completely sure about the digital logs? What if someone else used her login?"

　　Julian stopped turning the pages. He looked at me with deep, pitying eyes, shaking his head slowly. He placed a hand over his heart.

　　"Nathan, my brother," Julian said softly. "I spent six hours reviewing those files before I brought them to you. The digital footprint matches her personal office computer, her home laptop, and her private phone. Nobody else had those access keys. I wish with all my heart that it was a mistake. You know how much I respected her. But the numbers do not lie."

　　"Julian is right," Arthur chimed in from the window. "Do not start doubting the facts now, Nathan. That is weakness speaking."

　　"I am not trying to be weak," I muttered, staring at the paper files. "I just... I need to know we didn't miss anything."

　　"We didn't," Julian assured me, tapping his finger on the red stamp. "In fact, to protect you from more pain, I am filing an emergency motion to block her legal team from accessing our proprietary software. It will keep her defense from dragging our company through months of ugly public discovery. We lock the defense paths now, and we let the federal prosecutors do their jobs."

　　"Is that legal?" I asked.

　　"It is standard corporate protection," Julian said smoothly. He handed me a pen. "I just need your signature right here on line B. It gives me total legal authority to represent Wolfe Enterprises in all matters regarding Isabella Hart."

　　I held the pen above the paper. My fingers felt like block stones. "If I sign this, her lawyers won't be able to question our IT staff?"

　　"They will only deal with me," Julian replied, leaning over the desk with a warm, comforting smile. "I will handle the dirty work so you don't have to face her in a courtroom every week. Let me carry this weight for you, Nathan."

　　I looked at Arthur. My father gave me a firm nod of approval.

　　I pressed the pen to the paper and scribbled my name across line B. Julian immediately took the folder back, closing it with a quick snap.

　　"Good," Julian said, sliding the pen into his pocket. "Now, there is one more detail we need to clear up regarding her family."

　　My body went stiff again. "What about her family?"

　　"The Hart family accounts," Julian said, pulling a smaller notepad from his jacket. "For the past four years, Wolfe Enterprises has been paying full university tuition and private medical stipends for her younger brother, Leo Hart. The payments come directly out of our charitable foundation pool."

　　"Leo is sick," I said quickly, my voice rising. "He has a severe autoimmune condition. He needs those specialist treatments every month, Julian. And he's in his third year of college."

　　"He is Isabella's brother," Arthur said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back. His voice was hard as iron. "Every single dollar in that foundation came from this company. Money that his sister was actively stealing from us."

　　"Leo didn't steal anything!" I shouted, standing up from my chair so fast it rolled back and bumped into the glass wall. "Leo is just a kid! He doesn't know anything about bank accounts or server codes!"

　　"It does not matter what he knows," Arthur argued, leaning over the desk and pointing a finger at my face. "We do not pay rewards to the family of a woman who tried to destroy us. How will it look to our shareholders if we are paying tens of thousands of dollars a month to fund the lifestyle of a fraudster's brother?"

　　"It is not a lifestyle, Dad, it is his medicine!" I yelled back, my chest heaving.

　　"It is company money," Julian added gently, stepping between Arthur and me to keep the peace. "Nathan, listen to reason. If Isabella used stolen funds to help her family, then every stipend we sent him is connected to the fraud investigation. If the federal auditors see us continuing those payments, they might think you were helping her hide the money."

　　I stared at Julian, then at my father. Their words circled around my head like heavy stones, crushing every thought I had. The logic was cold, but it made sense. My brain was trained to follow logic, even when my chest felt like it was tearing open.

　　If the money was dirty, everything connected to it was dirty too.

　　"Cancel the payments," I said, the words tasting like poison on my tongue.

　　"Are you sure, Nathan?" Julian asked, his hand hovering around his pad. "Once the foundation stops the medical grant, his coverage ends immediately."

　　"I said cancel it," I repeated, hardening my jaw and staring straight ahead at the dark walls. My heart felt cold and dead inside my ribs. "I will not spend my money on the family of thieves and frauds."

　　"Wise choice," Arthur said, taking a deep breath and smoothing his tie. "You are learning how to be a real chief executive, Nathan. I will leave you two to finish up. I have a dinner meeting with the city mayor."

　　Arthur turned and walked out of the office, his heavy footsteps fading down the hallway.

　　Julian gathered his folders and tucked them under his arm. "I will file the paperwork with the foundation tonight, Nathan. Go home and get some sleep. You look terrible."

　　"I have work to do," I said plainly, sitting back down in my leather chair.

　　"Don't stay too late," Julian said softly. He gave my shoulder a quick pat before turning around and walking out, closing the heavy oak door quietly behind him.

　　The office went completely silent.

　　The big city outside my window was full of bright yellow lights, moving cars, and tall buildings, but inside my room, it felt like an empty graveyard. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound left.

　　I pulled my keyboard closer and tried to open the quarterly report, but my eyes couldn't focus on the green numbers. My hands rested flat against the dark oak wood of my desk.

　　I reached down to open my top drawer to grab a notebook, but as I pulled the drawer open, something caught on the edge of the wood.

　　A piece of soft, light blue fabric was stuck in the corner of the slide.

　　I reached out and pulled it free. It was a thin silk scarf. It belonged to Isabella. She had left it on the back of her chair last week when we were working late on the European shipping contracts.

　　I held the soft fabric in my hands. I brought it closer to my face without thinking, and the faint, sweet smell of vanilla and fresh rain hit my nose. It was her perfume. The exact same smell that used to fill my car every morning when we drove to work together.

　　A sharp, violent pain hit my chest. My eyes burned, and for two seconds, I couldn't breathe. My fingers clenched tight around the soft silk, crumpling it into a tiny ball in my fist.

　　She lied to you, a cold voice inside my head whispered. She took your money. She took your trust. She tried to ruin everything you built.

　　I looked down at the blue scarf in my hand. The sweet vanilla smell didn't feel warm anymore. It felt like a trick. It felt like proof that everything we had built together was just a giant lie.

　　My face went hot with sudden, sharp anger.

　　I pulled open the very bottom drawer of my desk—the deep one where I kept old, useless files. I shoved the blue silk scarf deep into the dark back corner, pushing it behind a stack of dusty folders where I wouldn't have to see it ever again.

　　I slammed the heavy wooden drawer shut. BANG.

　　I picked up my small brass key, inserted it into the lock, and turned it until it clicked. I pulled the key out and tossed it into my pencil cup.

　　I stood up, straightened my suit jacket, and wiped my hands against my pants.

　　"She betrayed me," I said out loud to the empty, quiet room. My voice was steady, hard, and cold as ice. "So she deserved everything."