“Evelyn, you are a terminated employee.
Leave the building.”
Evelyn met his eyes.
“You terminated my job.
You did not terminate my shares.”
Grace placed the founder agreement on the reception desk.
Daniel’s gaze dropped to his own signature.
For one brief second, his face changed.
Then the smile returned.
“That document is outdated.”
“Then you will have no difficulty proving it to the board,” Grace said.
Inside the conference room, Steven sat beside three independent directors.
The general counsel was present, along with an outside forensic accountant who had joined by video.
Daniel took the chair at the head of the table as though position alone could preserve his authority.
He began by describing Evelyn as a disgruntled former employee struggling to accept a necessary restructuring.
“This is retaliation,” he said.
“She removed confidential records after her termination and is now attempting to damage the company.”
Evelyn did not interrupt.
She waited until he finished.
Then she opened the termination folder he had given her on her birthday.
“I removed nothing,” she said.
“Your own employees found discrepancies inside records they were authorized to handle.
I am requesting an audit under Section Eleven of the operating agreement.”
Grace distributed copies of the founder documents, the Northstar invoice list, the email instructing Mia to use Evelyn’s approval code, and the compliance questions Lauren had submitted during the previous three months.
Daniel glanced at the pages and laughed.
“An email taken out of context and a few routine invoices.
Northstar provides strategic research.”
The forensic accountant spoke from the screen.
“We attempted to verify the vendor this morning.
Northstar has no listed employees, no commercial address, no active website, and no state tax filings consistent with eight million dollars in consulting revenue.
Its registered agent is Thomas Vale.”
Steven leaned forward.
“Your brother-in-law?”
Daniel’s fingers stopped moving.
“Thomas manages administrative filings for many companies.”
“Does he own Northstar?” one director asked.
“Not to my knowledge.”
Grace slid another document across the table.
It was a banking disclosure Rachel had processed months earlier and retained in the ordinary billing archive.
Northstar’s payment account listed a private trust as its beneficial owner.
The trust’s trustee was Daniel’s wife.
No one spoke.
Rain struck the glass walls behind him.
Daniel looked toward the general counsel.
“This meeting is over.”
“No,” Steven said.
“It is not.”
Daniel pushed back from the table.
“You have no idea how this company operates anymore.”
“Apparently, neither did Evelyn,” Steven replied.
“Because you used her name to approve payments she never saw.”
Daniel turned on Evelyn.
“You reviewed every major expense.
That was your responsibility.”
It was the defense he had prepared: if the payments were legitimate, he deserved credit; if they were fraudulent, Evelyn deserved blame.
