Chapter 3 - The Confession
The color drained from Daniel's face so fast he looked ill.
Victor Caldwell bolted upright in his chair. "Objection! Relevance!"
"Overruled," the judge snapped, leaning forward, suddenly fiercely interested in the quiet woman sitting at the defense table. "I'll allow it. Where are you going with this, Ms. Morgan?"
"Your Honor, Mr. Whitmore believed he had exclusive control over the security cameras in his study," Rachel explained. "He did not realize that as the owner of the servers, my client had administrative access to every frame of footage he recorded. Defense submits Exhibit D into evidence."
Rachel tapped a button on her remote.
The three flat-screen monitors mounted in the courtroom blinked to life.
The video was crystal clear. It was dated four months ago. The timestamp read 11:43 p.m.
On the screens, Daniel was sitting behind his mahogany desk in his private study. He wasn't alone. Sitting across from him was his chief financial officer, holding a stack of foundation ledgers.
"The offshore accounts are ready, Daniel," the CFO said on the video. "But if Emily orders an audit, we're dead. The embezzlement from her family's foundation is too massive to hide."
On the screen, Daniel laughed. It wasn't the warm, sympathetic chuckle he used in public. It was a cold, arrogant sneer.
"Emily isn't going to audit anything," Daniel said on the tape, reaching into his pocket and pulling out my missing car keys, dropping them into his desk drawer. "She thinks she's losing her mind. I’ve been moving her keys, changing her passwords, and slipping a double dose of her anxiety meds into her morning tea for six months. By the time I file for divorce, she'll be too heavily medicated and discredited to even know what a bank statement is."
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The courtroom erupted.
The gallery gasped. Reporters furiously typed on their phones. Victor Caldwell literally dropped his pen, his jaw unhinged, staring in horror at the monster he was defending.
