Chapter 3 - Ethan’s Rude Awakening in Miami
Fourteen hundred miles away, the sun was shining over the turquoise waters of Biscayne Bay.
Ethan Monroe sat at an outdoor table at a high-end South Beach restaurant, a mimosa in one hand and his arm draped casually around Brooke Sinclair. Brooke was laughing, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder as she showed him a ring she had been browsing online—a four-carat diamond that cost more than an entry-level sedan.
“Oh, Ethan, look at this setting,” Brooke purred, leaning close. “It’s exquisite. And you said your quarterly bonus just cleared, right?”
Ethan grinned, puffed out his chest, and took a sip of his drink. “Of course it did, sweetheart. Regional sales director for Ashford-Pacific Pharmaceuticals doesn't just get a bonus; we dictate the numbers. My mother keeps texting me saying Hannah’s being difficult back in Napa, but honestly? Once I file the papers, we’ll move into that penthouse in downtown Chicago. Hannah was always too plain for my lifestyle anyway.”
At that exact moment, Ethan’s phone buzzed on the table.
Bzz-bzz.
He glanced down, expecting a complaint from his mother or a reminder from his bank. Instead, the screen flashed with an alert from the corporate treasury department of Ashford-Pacific Pharmaceuticals.
SECURITY ALERT: All corporate credit lines, stock options, and executive expense accounts associated with Employee ID #4492-Ethan Monroe have been suspended effective immediately pending federal and internal investigation.
Ethan chuckled, dismissing it as a system glitch. “Stupid IT department. Probably routine maintenance.”
He tapped the screen to check his personal mobile banking app.
ACCOUNT FROZEN. BALANCE: $0.00.
Ethan’s smile slipped. He opened his credit card app.
DECLINED. CARD REPORTED LOST/STOLEN BY ISSUER.
“What the hell?” Ethan muttered, sitting up straight.
“Ethan? What’s wrong?” Brooke asked, her smile faltering.
Before Ethan could answer, his phone rang loudly. The caller ID read: HQ SECURITY - SAN FRANCISCO.
Ethan swiped to answer, his voice defensive. “Listen, whatever automated security hold you’ve put on my accounts, you’ve made a massive mistake. I’m Ethan Monroe, regional director, and—”
“Mr. Monroe,” a cold, gravelly voice interrupted. It wasn't an IT tech. It was Marcus Vance, Head of Corporate Security for Ashford Health Systems. “You are not a regional director anymore. Your company vehicle has been geo-locked outside your Miami hotel. Your corporate apartment in Napa is currently being repossessed by bailiffs acting on behalf of the primary trust holder. And your mother is currently detained at Pacific Crest Women’s Medical Center answering questions regarding a felony assault and battery charge.”
The phone slipped from Ethan’s hand, clattering against the glass table.
May you like
Brooke stared at him, her eyes wide with sudden suspicion. “Ethan... what is going on?”
Ethan couldn't answer. His face had turned the color of chalk.
