Chapter 3 - The Audit Unveiled
Ten days before the annual Horizon Tech Investor Gala, the financial net closed entirely around Derek Cole.
Lauren and I met in a secure, nondescript conference room in downtown Baltimore, accompanied by federal investigator Marcus Vance from the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Maryland. The conference table was practically buried under stacks of forensic reports, wire transfer logs, certified forgery analyses, and corporate audit summaries.
“The package is complete,” Marcus said, closing a thick manila folder and sliding it across the polished wood toward me. He was a veteran investigator with sharp, cynical eyes that had seen every flavor of white-collar corruption. “We have documented over four point eight million dollars in systematic embezzlement, securities fraud, tax evasion, and interstate wire fraud. Furthermore, the forged signatures on your corporate partnership dissolution meet every federal standard for felony identity theft.”
I opened the folder, running my hand lightly over the crisp pages. Every transaction, every lie, every hidden offshore account was laid bare with mathematical irrefutability.
“And the timing?” I asked, looking up at Lauren.
“The grand jury handed down the sealed indictments this morning,” Lauren replied smoothly. “They won't be unsealed until the exact moment we trigger them. And we’ve coordinated with federal marshals to ensure the warrants are executed live, in front of every major investor, tech journalist, and venture capitalist in the mid-Atlantic region.”
“What about Valerie?” I asked.
“Valeri’s father’s bank accounts—which were used to launder a portion of the stolen venture capital—have been frozen under federal asset forfeiture laws,” Marcus interjected with a faint smirk. “Her family’s elite social circle is already distancing themselves from her faster than a sinking ship. She’s learning very quickly that a man who steals millions to fund a lifestyle doesn't make a very loyal partner when the FBI comes knocking.”
I leaned back in my chair, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the gray, imposing skyline of the city.
For ten years, I had believed that love meant compromise, that loyalty meant absorbing someone else’s cruelty, and that my worth was defined by how quietly I could support a man’s ambition. Derek had exploited that belief, weaponizing my empathy against me.
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Now, looking at the cold, hard mechanics of justice on the table, I realized something far more powerful: survival wasn't about enduring pain. It was about reclaiming your own power with absolute, unshakeable precision.
“Let’s finish this,” I said quietly.
