Chapter 6 - Ashes and Regrets
The fallout was swift and brutal. I didn't need to lift another finger; gravity did the rest of the work. By Friday evening, Hale Innovations had a new interim CEO appointed by Halcyon. Bradley’s company email was deactivated. His corporate cards were frozen. Over the weekend, local news outlets picked up the story of a prominent tech CEO ousted over embezzlement allegations. I read the articles from the quiet comfort of my new penthouse overlooking Puget Sound. I felt no joy. Only the cold satisfaction of a balanced ledger.
Alexander kept me updated on the peripheral damage. It turned out Brittany Cole’s loyalty was intrinsically tied to Bradley’s bank account. When she realized the house was gone, the job was gone, and the Porsche was being repossessed by Halcyon’s legal team, she vanished. “She left him at the Motel 6,” Alexander reported over lunch on Tuesday. “Took whatever cash he had left in his personal wallet and bought a bus ticket back to her parents in Oregon.” I sipped my sparkling water. “And the baby?” “She told him he’d be hearing from child support services, assuming he isn't in prison.”
I looked out the window. Bradley had traded his marriage, his company, and his dignity for a woman who abandoned him the moment the credit cards stopped working. He had wanted a new family. Now he had nothing. Beatrice was faring no better. Without Bradley’s inflated income, she could no longer afford the luxury retirement community she lived in. She was forced to move into a tiny, state-subsidized apartment on the outskirts of Tacoma. The very kind of "tiny apartment" she had mockingly suggested I live in. Poetic justice had a sense of humor.
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“The SEC officially opened their investigation this morning,” Alexander added, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Bradley’s lawyer reached out to me. He wants to negotiate a plea deal. He’s begging us not to press civil charges on top of the criminal ones.” “What did you tell him?” “I told him Halcyon does not negotiate with thieves.” I smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. Alexander looked at me, his eyes softening. “How are you doing, Megan? Really?”
I thought about the house on Cedar Ridge. It was nothing but a flat patch of dirt now, ready for luxury townhomes to be built over my history. I thought about the five years I spent shrinking myself to make a weak man feel strong. “I’m breathing, Alex,” I said. “For the first time in years, I’m actually breathing.” He reached across the table and briefly squeezed my hand. It was a small, professional gesture, but it held a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. “Good,” he said. “Because we have a new acquisition to discuss. And I need my boss operating at full capacity.” “I’m ready.”
