Chapter 6 - Fractured Loyalties
By Tuesday morning, the scandal broke across national financial news networks.
Whitcomb Defense Logistics under Federal Investigation. Executive Leadership Faces Indictment.
The stock price plunged forty-two percent in pre-market trading. The board of directors held an emergency conference call without my father or Preston, voting unanimously to suspend both of them pending a full internal audit.
Aunt Beverly called me at 9:15 AM, sobbing hysterically.
"Natalie, please, you have to talk to your father! He locked himself in his study, and he’s talking about liquidating everything! We’re ruined! Your cousins’ college funds are gone!"
"Aunt Beverly," I said, my voice steady. "Where was your voice when Preston hit my son at Christmas dinner? You covered your mouth and chuckled."
Silence stretched across the line, heavy and suffocating.
"I didn't mean—"
"You all laughed," I interrupted. "You treated human dignity as a luxury afforded only to those bearing the Whitcomb surname. Well, the bill has come due."
I hung up and blocked her number.
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The phone immediately rang again. It was my father’s personal attorney, offering a settlement: if I transferred my twenty-eight percent voting shares back to the family trust, they would step down quietly and allow me a seat on the board.
"Tell my father," I told the attorney, "that I will see him in federal court."
