Chapter 5 - BIANCA’S SUDDEN EXIT AND THE BETRAYAL REVEALED
Across town, in a luxury high-rise apartment paid for by Arden Holdings corporate funds, Bianca Ravel was frantically packing her designer suitcases.
The transformation from the triumphant mistress in the red dress to a cornered fugitive happened in less than twenty-four hours. Her corporate credit cards had been declined at noon. Her access badge to the Arden offices had been deactivated by noon-thirty. And by two o’clock, Marisol Keene’s investigators had served her with a civil subpoena for corporate fraud, asset recovery, and conspiracy.
The front door unlocked with a heavy click, and Adrian stumbled into the apartment. He looked disheveled, his suit jacket rumpled, his tie missing entirely.
"Bianca," he breathed, slamming the door behind him. "Tell me you saw this. Tell me this is some kind of nightmare that Isla is orchestrating and our lawyers can fix it."
Bianca didn’t even look up from her Louis Vuitton suitcase as she folded a silk blouse with trembling hands.
"Your lawyers?" Bianca laughed, a sharp, hysterical sound. "Adrian, my corporate accounts have been frozen. The district attorney's office is reviewing the shell company invoices you signed off on. Do you know what happens to corporate consultants who sign falsified branding contracts? We go to prison, Adrian. We."
Adrian grabbed her arm, spinning her around. "Don't talk to me about prison! You convinced me to divert those funds! You said Isla wouldn't notice if we trickled the capital into your account for your apartment lease!"
Bianca ripped her arm away, her eyes flashing with pure malice.
"I convinced you?" she sneered. "You were more than happy to steal from your own wife as long as it funded your lifestyle and kept you feeling like a big man. You told me every night how much you despised her restraint, how tired you were of her intelligence making you feel small!"
Adrian stared at her, the mask of his charm completely dissolved, revealing the weak, cowardly boy hiding underneath.
"We can run," Adrian whispered frantically, desperation gripping his voice. "We have offshore accounts. We can take the private jet—"
"The private jet was seized by the federal receivership committee three hours ago, Adrian," a calm voice interrupted from the doorway.
Adrian and Bianca whipped around.
Leaning against the doorframe was Marisol Keene, flanked by two private security officers in dark suits. Marisol held a manila folder in one hand and her phone in the other.
"Mr. Arden, Ms. Ravel," Marisol said smoothly. "You are both formally served with notices of deposition regarding the multi-million-dollar corporate fraud investigation into Arden Holdings."
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"You can't do this—this is a private family matter!" Adrian stammered, stepping backward until his back hit the kitchen counter.
"Embezzling from a publicly traded entity and conspiring to defraud a private stakeholder is not a family matter, Mr. Arden," Marisol replied, motioning to the guards. "It’s a federal felony. Pack light. You have a very busy week ahead of you in court."
