The chairman spoke first.
“Julian, did you authorize personal expenditures through accounts connected to the Apex charity partnership?”
Julian rubbed his forehead. “This is being exaggerated.”
“That is not an answer.”
His legal counsel leaned in. “Say as little as possible.”
Julian slammed his hand on the table. “I built this company!”
“No,” said a voice from the doorway. “You expanded it with borrowed trust.”
Everyone turned.
Clarissa stood there.
Not with Arthur this time.
Alone.
She wore a cream coat over her gown, her face calm but tired. Mrs. Martha waited behind her, holding a folder.
Julian rose too quickly. “What are you doing here?”
Clarissa stepped inside. “Returning something.”
She placed a silver wedding band on the table.
The sound was small.
But Julian looked as if someone had fired a gun.
“Clarissa,” he whispered.
She opened the folder and slid several documents across the glass.
“Copies of household records. Staff testimonies. Receipts Chloe sent to the house. Messages. Dates you told the board you were traveling for investor meetings while you were with her.”
