Chapter 6 - The Subpoena and the Freezing Assets
Back at Cross Tower, the boardroom had transformed into a war room of corporate execution.
Bradley slumped in his leather chair like a deflated balloon, staring at the polished wood as if it were a pit of vipers. Tanya was sitting beside him, openly weeping mascara tears down her face, muttering incoherently about calling her father’s lawyers.
Edmund Cross sat quietly at the head of the table, observing the scene with the detached curiosity of a scientist watching bacteria under a microscope.
Meredith stood near the windows, her arms crossed over her ivory blazer, looking down at the legal documents Marcus Vance had just laid out across the conference table.
“The forensic audit of Norton Realty is complete,” Marcus announced, addressing both Meredith and Edmund. “Every single transaction executed by Bradley Norton over the last three years has been flagged for wire fraud, embezzlement, and corporate identity theft. The federal prosecutor’s office has already been briefed, and an arrest warrant is currently being processed.”
Bradley jerked his head up, his eyes wild and bloodshot. He looked at Meredith, his expression twisting from shock into a desperate, pathetic pleading.
“Meredith... please,” Bradley choked out, sliding out of his chair and dropping clumsily to his knees on the carpeted floor, crawling toward her like a beaten dog. “Em, please... think about Rosie. We have a family. I made mistakes, I know I did, I was stressed, Tays meant nothing to me—it was just a distraction, I swear!”
Meredith didn't step back. She didn't flinch. She simply looked down at the man who had held her by the hair and shoved her face into a birthday cake less than twenty-four hours ago.
“When you shoved my face into that cake, Bradley,” Meredith said, her voice terrifyingly calm, “did you think about Rosie?”
“I... I was angry! You embarrassed me in front of the clients—”
“You thought I was weak,” Meredith corrected quietly. “You thought because I chose to be a quiet mother, because I cooked your meals and folded your shirts and smiled at your mother’s insults, that I had no spine, no name, and no power.”
“I’m sorry!” Bradley sobbed, reaching out to grab the hem of her trousers.
Meredith stepped back just an inch, making sure his fingers brushed empty air.
“Sorry doesn't fix forgery, Bradley,” Meredith said. “And it certainly doesn't fix child endangerment.”
Marcus stepped forward, dropping a thick legal packet directly onto Bradley’s head.
“In addition to the criminal indictments for fraud,” Marcus stated formally, “you have just been served with an emergency family court petition for sole, permanent legal and physical custody of minor child Rosalyn Norton, accompanied by a permanent restraining order prohibiting you or your mother from coming within five hundred feet of either Meredith Sterling or her daughter.”
Bradley stared at the papers fluttering around his knees. The fight had entirely leaked out of him. He curled forward, burying his face in his hands, letting out ragged, hopeless sobs that echoed off the walnut walls of the billionaire’s boardroom.
Tanya stood up abruptly, grabbing her designer handbag and glaring at Bradley with venomous disgust. “You pathetic loser!” she shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at him. “You told me you were rich! You told me you owned this town! I’m calling a cab!”
She turned on her heel and sprinted toward the boardroom doors, throwing them open and rushing out into the hallway, desperate to distance herself from a sinking ship that had just hit an iceberg.
Edmund Cross watched her go, a faint, amused smile touching the corner of his mouth. He picked up his crystal water glass, took a sip, and looked up at Meredith. “Well,” Edmund murmured softly, so only she could hear. “I must admit, Ms. Sterling. That was significantly more entertaining than cutting birthday cake.”
Meredith turned her head, meeting Edmund’s gaze. A spark of mutual respect—sharp, brilliant, and unspoken—passed between them.
“Thank you for the use of your boardroom, Mr. Cross,” Meredith said, her professional composure returning seamlessly.
“Anytime,” Edmund replied, standing up and extending his hand toward her across the table. “In fact, since your company now holds controlling interest in the North End development... I believe we have quite a bit of business to discuss. Over dinner, perhaps?”
Meredith looked at his outstretched hand, then up into his gray, intelligent eyes. For the first time in years, she felt a genuine, unforced smile touch her lips.
May you like
She slid her hand into his firm, warm grip.
“I’d like that very much, Mr. Cross,” Meredith said.
