Chapter 7 - THE MISTRESS REVEALED
The air in Bradley’s office felt thin, freezing, and suffocating all at once.
Sienna stared at the photograph.
She had worked seventy hours a week. She had flown to London, Tokyo, and New York on red-eye flights, enduring grueling sixteen-hour negotiations while Christian claimed he was "holding down the fort" at home. She had endured Gwen’s daily insults, paid for Gwen’s medical procedures, funded Chloe’s decadent lifestyle, and apologized when she was too exhausted to attend family dinners.
And all the while, Christian had an entire parallel life.
A younger mistress. A two-million-dollar rental villa. A luxury boutique funded by stolen corporate money.
And Gwen knew. Gwen had embraced Elena. Gwen had toasted to the day they would strip Sienna of her wealth and replace her with their hand-picked trophy bride.
"Sienna?" Bradley whispered nervously, staring at her stone-like profile. "Are you... are you okay?"
Sienna stood up straight. The pain in her split lip was completely gone, replaced by a crystalline, predatory focus.
"Copy every single byte of this drive onto an encrypted thumb drive," Sienna instructed quietly. "Then forward the complete Apex Horizon ledger to Victoria Sterling’s private legal server."
"Done. It's done," Bradley stammered, pulling the drive and handing it to her with both hands, bowing his head like a condemned prisoner. "What about me, Sienna? What happens to me?"
"You are going to pack your personal belongings into a cardboard box right now," Sienna said. "You will submit your immediate resignation citing personal health reasons. If you cooperate fully with Victoria Sterling’s forensic deposition next week, I will advise Meridian’s board not to name you as a co-defendant in the criminal referral we are handing to the Department of Justice."
Bradley let out a ragged, sob-filled sigh of relief. "Thank you. God, thank you, Sienna."
"Don't thank me, Bradley. You’re ruined in this town anyway."
Sienna took the flash drive, turned on her heel, and walked out.
Back in her forty-second-floor office, Victoria Sterling was waiting with a fresh pot of coffee. Marcus Vance, the private investigator, was seated on the leather sofa, his laptop open.
Sienna dropped the thumb drive onto the coffee table.
"He has a mistress," Sienna said without preamble. "Her name is Elena Vance. He set her up in a luxury villa on Camelback Mountain and financed a high-end boutique for her in Scottsdale using one point four million dollars stolen from Meridian Global. Gwen was fully aware. She was vacationing with them in Cabo while I was in Singapore negotiating our infrastructure acquisition."
Marcus Vance let out a low whistle. "Well, that certainly simplifies our asset tracing."
Victoria’s eyes gleamed with cold fury. "Under Arizona law, any funds fraudulently diverted from a spouse or community enterprise toward an extramarital partner constitute 'wasteful dissipation of marital assets.' Not only can we claw back every single cent Christian gave to Elena Vance, but we can also hold Elena personally liable as a constructive trustee of stolen property."
"Can we shut her boutique down?" Sienna asked.
"Shut it down?" Victoria laughed, a sound like dry autumn leaves scraping over concrete. "My dear, the boutique lease, the commercial inventory, and the commercial bank accounts were all funded directly by Apex Horizon Logistics. Elena Vance doesn't own that boutique. Meridian Global and your marital estate own it. You can walk into that store right now with an emergency injunction, lock the doors, and seize every stitch of clothing on the racks."
Sienna walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window.
The midday heat of Phoenix was rising, shimmering off the asphalt below.
"Not yet," Sienna said softly.
Victoria looked up, curious. "What are you thinking?"
"Elena Vance is having a grand VIP opening for her boutique tomorrow night," Sienna said, remembering the event flyer saved in Christian’s Proton drive. "The entire Scottsdale elite has been invited. Christian has RSVP'd. Gwen has already told her country club friends she is the guest of honor."
A slow, terrifying smile spread across Sienna’s face.
May you like
"I wouldn't dream of canceling their party."
***