Chapter 2 - The Boardroom Betrayal
At nine fifty-five, the elevator doors opened onto the thirty-eighth floor of Brooks Development Group.
The reception area was immaculate—white stone, black steel, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a panoramic view of Manhattan that made everyone who entered feel smaller than the building itself.
Mark usually loved that feeling.
Today, he hated it.
The boardroom doors were already closed.
Robert Lin stood outside with his tablet pressed tightly against his chest.
“Mark,” Robert said carefully.
“What is this?” Mark snapped.
“Mrs. Brooks requested an emergency governance meeting.”
“She is not allowed to call a board meeting without me.”
Robert looked uncomfortable.
“She can. She holds forty-nine percent of the voting shares.”
Mark’s face darkened.
“And I hold fifty-one.”
“Not exactly.”
Mark stopped walking.
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
Robert opened the tablet and turned it toward him.
“Three years ago, when you restructured the waterfront project, Isabella transferred certain shares into the family trust to protect the company from personal liability.”
Mark stared at the screen.
“You told me that was temporary.”
“It was,” Robert said. “Until it became necessary.”
The boardroom doors opened.
Inside sat seven board members, two attorneys, Robert, and Isabella at the far end of the polished conference table.
She wore a navy suit and no jewelry except her wedding ring.
Mark noticed it immediately.
“You kept it on,” he said.
Isabella folded her hands.
“For now.”
He pulled out a chair. “This is ridiculous.”
Helen Ward, Isabella’s attorney, placed a stack of documents in front of every board member.
“Mr. Brooks,” Helen said, “we are here to address potential misuse of corporate funds, undisclosed conflicts of interest, and breach of fiduciary duty.”
Mark looked around the room.
“You all knew about this?”
No one answered.
That hurt him more than Isabella expected.
Not because she wanted him destroyed.
Because she wanted him to understand what it felt like to stand in a room full of people and realize no one was coming to defend you.
Mark pointed at Khloe’s payments on the documents.
“These are legitimate consulting expenses.”
“Then perhaps Ms. Jenkins can explain them,” Isabella said.
The door opened again.
Khloe entered in a fitted black dress, carrying a designer bag and wearing an expression that collapsed the moment she saw the attorneys.
“What is this?” she asked.
Mark stood. “Why are you here?”
Khloe looked at Isabella.
“You asked me to come.”
“I asked you to attend a meeting regarding the consulting company that bears your name.”
Khloe’s eyes widened.
“I don’t own that company.”
The room went silent.
Mark froze.
Isabella’s pulse remained steady.
“Excuse me?” Helen asked.
Khloe swallowed. “I mean, I signed paperwork, but Mark told me it was just for taxes. I don’t know anything about the company.”
Mark’s face went pale.
“Khloe,” he said sharply. “Stop talking.”
But Khloe was already panicking.
“You said it was legal.”
“I said it was business,” Mark hissed.
“You said I would never have to deal with any of this.”
Isabella watched them unravel.
Their affair had survived expensive dinners, private flights, hotel suites, and whispered promises.
It could not survive a room full of consequences.
Helen leaned forward.
“Ms. Jenkins, did you provide consulting services to Brooks Development Group?”
Khloe looked at Mark.
He did not look back.
“I helped with events,” she said weakly.
“What events?”
“I don’t know. Some dinners. I picked colors for a presentation once.”
“Did you perform $265,000 worth of consulting work?”
Khloe’s lips parted.
No sound came out.
Mark slammed his hand onto the table.
“This is harassment.”
“No,” Isabella said. “This is accounting.”
The board voted to place Mark on temporary administrative leave pending a full internal investigation.
He left the boardroom without shaking anyone’s hand.
Khloe followed him into the hallway.
“Mark, wait.”
He turned on her.
“You told them you didn’t own the company?”
“You told me it was nothing!”
“It was supposed to be nothing.”
“Then why is everyone acting like I committed a crime?”
Mark stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Because Isabella wants to ruin me.”
Khloe stared at him.
“No,” she said. “She wants to ruin us.”
Mark laughed bitterly.
“There is no us if you cannot keep your mouth shut.”
Khloe flinched.
For the first time, Isabella saw the truth in the younger woman’s face.
Khloe had never expected to be loved openly.
She had expected to be chosen quietly.
And now she was learning that Mark only chose people when it cost him nothing.
Later that afternoon, Isabella returned to the townhouse.
A moving truck stood outside.
She watched from the car as Khloe emerged with two suitcases, a garment bag, and a box filled with framed photographs.
Mark followed behind her.
They were arguing.
“You said I could stay here,” Khloe said.
“I said temporarily.”
“Until when?”
“Until this is over.”
“And what am I supposed to do now?”
Mark rubbed his forehead.
“Get a hotel.”
Khloe laughed, but there were tears in her eyes.
“With what money? My accounts are frozen.”
“Not my problem.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
That was the man she had spent twelve years trying to save.
Not a victim.
Not a misunderstood husband.
A man who treated love like a transaction and loyalty like a weakness.
She stepped out of the car.
Mark saw her first.
“Isabella.”
Khloe turned.
For a tense moment, neither woman spoke.
Then Khloe lifted her chin.
“You think you won.”
Isabella considered her answer.
“I do not think this is winning.”
Khloe’s eyes narrowed.
“You took everything from him.”
“No,” Isabella said. “He gave it away.”
She turned to Mark.
“Your personal belongings will be delivered to your apartment by Friday. Your access to this house has been removed.”
“You cannot kick me out of my own home.”
“Actually,” Isabella said, “the townhouse is held by my grandfather’s trust.”
Mark’s face fell.
He had forgotten that too.
Isabella looked at Khloe one last time.
“If you have questions about the investigation, speak to an attorney. If you have questions about Mark, ask yourself why he only becomes honest after he gets caught.”
She walked past them both.
That night, alone in a hotel room, Khloe opened her laptop.
There was an email waiting in her inbox.
From an address she did not recognize.
Subject: You Were Never the Only One.
Attached were photographs.
Mark with another woman.
Not Isabella.
Not Khloe.
Someone else.
The pictures had been taken only three weeks earlier.
Khloe stared at the screen until her hands began to shake.
Then she called Isabella.
Isabella answered after the third ring.
“What do you want, Khloe?”
Khloe’s voice cracked.
“I think Mark is lying to both of us.”
Isabella looked out at the Manhattan skyline.
“I know.”
May you like
Then she heard Khloe whisper something Isabella did not expect.
“I have proof.”
