Chapter 5 - The Departure
Graham’s knees visibly buckled. He grabbed the side of the podium to keep from collapsing, his chest heaving as the inescapable reality of his absolute ruin crashed down upon him.
"Eleanor, please," Graham choked out, the polished, arrogant CEO completely evaporating into a pathetic, desperate shell of a man. "It was a simple budgeting oversight. The procurement paperwork was just rushed for the retreat. We can fix the ledgers. You don't have to do this in front of everyone."
"I am not doing this to you, Graham," I replied coldly, stepping away from the podium. "You did this to yourself."
Arthur stepped forward, pulling a thick stack of certified legal documents from his briefcase. "Graham Whitaker, on behalf of the Hayes Family Trust and the Board of Directors, you are officially terminated as CEO for gross fiduciary fraud and moral turpitude, effective immediately. Your corporate assets are frozen. The local authorities are here to escort you and Ms. Mercer off the premises pending a federal indictment."
Chloe burst into hysterical, frantic tears, dropping her tablet onto the hardwood floor. "I didn't know the bids were fake! He told me he handled the paperwork! I had nothing to do with the fraud!"
Graham whipped his head toward her, utterly betrayed by the woman he had just risked his entire existence to impress. "You gave me Caleb’s routing numbers! You drafted the Apex letterhead on your laptop!"
They turned on each other instantly, screaming vicious accusations as the sheriff’s deputies moved in, placing heavy hands on their shoulders and instructing them to move toward the door.
The forty-two employees sat in completely stunned, paralyzed silence, watching the man who had ordered them around just minutes earlier being frog-marched out the heavy oak doors of the lodge.
I watched them walk out into the freezing mountain air. I didn't feel a single ounce of pity or grief. I unplugged my laptop from the projector, closed the screen, and looked out at the executives who were staring at me with a newfound, profound reverence.
"Luis," I called out to the facilities manager standing quietly near the back wall.
May you like
"Yes, Mrs. Whitaker?" Luis answered immediately, standing at attention.
"It’s Ms. Hayes," I corrected him smoothly, picking up my laptop. "Please have their suitcases removed from the master suite and placed in the snow by the front gate. I’ll be taking my room back now."
