Chapter 7 - The Subpoena and the Corporate Collapsed Empire
By the following week, the scandal had hit the front page of every major New York newspaper.
CORRECTIVE LOGISTICS EXECUTIVE ARRESTED IN MULTIMILLION-DOLLAR EMBEZZLEMENT AND BRUTAL ASSAULT SCANDAL.
Headlines featured photos of David being led out of the courthouse in handcuffs, his face shielded by a federal marshal’s jacket. Apex Logistics’ stock plunged twelve percent in a single trading session as federal investigators executed search warrants across their corporate headquarters, seizing servers, financial logs, and executive correspondence.
It turned out David wasn't the only one involved. Several board members who had looked the other way while David cooked the books were now scrambling to cut plea deals, pointing fingers at one another in a frantic race to save themselves from lengthy prison sentences.
My phone buzzed constantly with calls from reporters, old acquaintances wanting gossip, and distant relatives expressing shock. I turned the phone off, leaving it in a drawer, choosing instead to focus entirely on resting at the quiet Hudson Valley retreat Wyatt’s sister had provided.
The apartment was cozy, filled with the scent of pine and old books, overlooking a peaceful stretch of the river where eagles soared against the pale autumn sky.
My sister, Sarah—whom David had spent years convincing me was toxic and estranged from—arrived on Tuesday afternoon, having driven six hours straight after seeing the news.
When she opened the front door and saw me sitting by the window with my swollen belly, she didn't say a word. She just dropped her bags, rushed across the room, and wrapped her arms around me so tightly we both cried for twenty minutes straight.
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“I’m so sorry,” Sarah sobbed into my shoulder. “I knew something was wrong. I knew he was isolating you. I should have fought harder.”
“He had us all fooled, Sarah,” I murmured, stroking her hair. “He was a master of masks. But the mask is off now.”
