“You cannot remove me,” he said.
“I am Mercer Group.”
Thomas Bell shook his head.
“The board vote was nine to two.”
Adrian scanned the room, searching for allies.
Several board members were present.
None met his eyes.
“You voted against me?” he demanded.
One of them, an older man named Richard Hale, set down his champagne.
“We voted to protect the company.”
“I made you rich.”
“You made us vulnerable.”
Adrian pointed at me.
“She manipulated this.
She has been planning it for months.”
“Three months,” I said.
“That is how long I have known about Celeste.
The financial investigation began after I found company charges connected to your affair.”
Celeste looked at him.
“You used company money for the apartment?”
He ignored her.
I continued.
“The apartment lease was approved through a subsidiary.
So were your private flights, jewelry purchases, restaurant bills, and a vehicle registered to Celeste’s company.”
“That money was compensation,” Celeste said quickly.
“For what work?” Thomas asked.
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Miriam nodded to the ballroom technician.
The screens changed again, this time displaying invoices.
Each was cleanly formatted and approved by Adrian’s electronic signature.
Strategic development.
Brand positioning.
Executive outreach.
The descriptions sounded important.
The supporting files were empty.
Then came the transfers.
One payment had been made the morning after Celeste sent Adrian a message complaining that the corporate apartment was too small.
Another matched the purchase price of the convertible she had driven to the gala.
A third had been wired two days before a shell company acquired properties Mercer Group had intended to buy.
Celeste took one step away from him.
“Adrian,” she said, “you told me those payments came from your personal account.”
He spoke without looking at her.
“Stop talking.”
“You said the consulting agreement was legitimate.”
“I said stop.”
His voice cracked across the ballroom.
Celeste flinched, and in that instant I saw the shape of the lie he had built around both of us.
To her, he had been the trapped husband preparing to escape.
To me, he had been the exhausted executive needing patience and loyalty.
To the board, he had been the founder’s brilliant son.
Each version existed to keep someone useful and quiet.
Now the versions were colliding in public.
Victoria moved beside him.
“There must be an explanation.”
