Chapter 7 - Exposing the Fraud
"Let's talk about Apex Consulting LLC," I said, reading the names from memory.
"A company registered in Delaware that received four hundred thousand dollars in 'administrative fees' last year. A company that has no employees, no office, and no website. A company whose sole proprietary director is Vivian Mercer."
A low roar began to build in the chapel. The wealthy elite don't mind a bit of snobbery, but they absolutely despise being stolen from.
"Let's talk about the Oakbridge Community Outreach fund," I continued, pacing slightly, dragging my ruined train behind me.
"Seven hundred thousand dollars allocated for underprivileged youth programs. The money vanished into a private Cayman account exactly three days before Vivian purchased her new yacht in Monaco. A yacht she named The Philanthropist."
Someone in the back row actually let out a bark of shocked laughter.
"Lies!" Vivian screamed, standing up again. She looked around wildly at her friends, her peers. "She forged it! Ethan, make her stop!"
"The evidence isn't just in this drive," I said, my voice slicing through her panic.
I looked toward the back of the chapel.
Standing by the doors, looking small and terrified, was Marcus, Vivian's private assistant.
"Marcus," I called out over the microphone. "Did I forge the emails?"
Every head in the church turned.
Marcus shrank back against the heavy wooden doors, but he shook his head. "No," he croaked, though his voice was swallowed by the cavernous room.
He didn't need to be loud. The visual confirmation was enough.
"Over two point four million dollars," I stated, delivering the final blow.
"Stolen from scholarships. Stolen from cancer research. Stolen from the very people this room wrote checks to support. All to fund a lifestyle that went bankrupt a decade ago."
The chapel was in absolute chaos now. Board members were whispering furiously on their phones. Some guests were standing up, demanding answers.
Vivian was hyperventilating, her perfectly coiffed hair starting to fray.
"And when I found out," I concluded, bringing it all back to the slashed silk.
"She didn't apologize. She didn't step down. She blackmailed my family. She threatened her own son. And last night, she broke into my room and destroyed my grandmother’s wedding dress, hoping I would be too ashamed to show my face today."
I stepped away from the podium.
May you like
"But I know my place," I said, my unamplified voice carrying through the sudden, heavy silence that fell over the room.
"My place is right here. Exposing you."
