“No,” I said, placing my clutch on the table. “Let everyone watch.”
Miriam studied my face carefully. “Are you certain?”
“I want them to remember exactly how confident he looked.”
I crossed to the wall safe behind my father’s photograph and entered the code. Inside were the documents Ethan had never bothered asking about because Ethan never asked questions that might threaten his fantasy.
The Whitmore-Hayes Trust.
The shareholder map.
The CEO limitation clause.
The emergency executive removal provision.
And the original transfer deed naming me as controlling owner of 68.7 percent of Hayes Logistics, formerly Whitmore Freight Holdings.
I set the file onto the conference table.
Miriam opened it slowly. “You understand what happens if we activate this.”
“Yes.”
“There is no reversing it.”
“I have no interest in reversing anything.”
Nolan slid a tablet toward me. “Ethan attempted to move three million dollars from the corporate reserve account at 10:58 tonight. The transfer was blocked.”
My stomach tightened, not from shock but confirmation.
“Where was it being sent?”
“A consulting firm registered in Delaware,” Nolan replied. “Created six weeks ago. Beneficial ownership hidden, but we traced the contact number to Brooke Ellison’s personal assistant.”
Miriam’s expression hardened.
