Your career in this firm ends the moment Arthur Davenport dies, Clara, my senior co-manager Marcus whispered, dropping a 200-page termination clause onto my desk.
At 10:00 PM, my phone rang. It displayed an unknown number, and I hesitated, almost letting it go to voicemail.
I answered. “Clara Lin.”
“Clara? It’s Julian,” his voice was frantic, accompanied by the muffled background noise of traffic and the persistent drumming of rain. He sounded genuinely distressed. “I’m standing outside Marcus’s private office building. He’s going to liquidate everything tomorrow morning at the emergency shareholder vote.”
“Why are you calling me, Julian?” I asked, guardedly. Marcus had pushed him to smear my name in court just yesterday.
“Because I found out what he’s planning to do to my family,” Julian stammered, his voice cracking with a fear that sounded authentic. “He told us we’d get $15 million, a clean buyout. But I snuck into his office while he was on the phone, and I saw the final closing agreement on his desk tonight.”
He paused, a ragged breath escaping him. “The agreement pays his shell company $30 million. It leaves Beatrice and me with nothing but legal liability for the fraudulent incapacity claim we filed against you! He’s going to bankrupt the firm after he strips it clean.”
“Do you have proof?” I pressed, the question sharp. His story was compelling, but Julian Davenport was a desperate man.
“I took screenshots of his personal text messages with Gerald Finch,” Julian blurted out, a desperate urgency in his tone. “He told Finch to destroy the original physical audit ledgers tonight so the court auditor can’t verify them tomorrow. He’s in Arthur’s old office right now, shredding files.”
A new twist. Marcus was not only betraying his partners but also his co-conspirators. He was destroying evidence, sealing his fate, and exposing his true, greedy intentions.
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