Chapter 2 - The Foundation of Lies
I grabbed my phone from my desk, my heart hammering a frantic, terrifying rhythm against my ribs. I dialed my CFO, David. He didn't answer. I dialed my lead corporate attorney. It went straight to voicemail.
The silence of the office suddenly felt incredibly heavy.
For five years, Whitaker Developments had been the darling of the Denver architectural scene. I was the face of the firm. I shook the hands, I charmed the investors, and I stood on the stages accepting the awards. But I hated the administrative scaffolding that kept a business alive. I hated reading contracts, analyzing ledgers, and reviewing legal clauses. Rebecca had a master’s degree in finance, and she had quietly, seamlessly taken over the entire operational backend of my firm.
I had convinced myself that she was just doing paperwork. I had convinced myself that my charismatic vision was the only thing giving the company value. I was so blinded by my own arrogance, so intoxicated by the way young women like Madeline looked at me, that I had handed the absolute, unchecked keys to my entire kingdom to the woman I was betraying.
I ran out of my office and sprinted to the parking garage. I drove my Porsche through the flooded streets of downtown, breaking every speed limit to reach our sprawling home in Cherry Creek.
I pulled into the driveway and jammed my key into the front door.
It didn't turn.
I pulled it out, wiped the rain from my eyes, and tried again. The lock had been entirely replaced. Through the front window, I could see that the house was mostly dark, save for the faint glow of the security system in the hallway. I pounded my fist against the heavy mahogany door, screaming Rebecca’s name into the freezing rain.
There was no answer.
A private security vehicle I had never seen before pulled into the driveway behind me, its headlights illuminating the blinding rain. A massive, uniformed guard stepped out, holding a clipboard.
"Mr. Whitaker," the guard said, his voice completely devoid of sympathy. "I have strict instructions to inform you that you are trespassing on property owned by Pine Ridge Holdings. If you do not vacate the premises immediately, I will have you arrested."
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"This is my house!" I screamed, the panic finally overriding my sanity. "My wife is inside!"
"Your wife is not inside, sir," the guard replied, placing a heavy hand on his radio. "And the deed to this property was transferred yesterday morning. Step away from the door."
