All Chapters of The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

~ Isabella ~"They’re trying to starve us out," Maya said, slamming a thick stack of printed financial filings onto my desk. The sharp slap of paper on dark steel echoed into the high concrete ceiling of my Tribeca loft.I didn't flinch. I sat behind my desk, tracing the edge of my tablet screen. The numbers on the display were glowing in bright red line graphs. Coldwell Industries had officially launched a hostile takeover bid targeting Vanguard’s main shipping subsidiary—the exact asset that gave us control over the European supply routes.It was an aggressive bid. They were offering forty percent over market value per share. It made zero financial sense for them. Damian Cole was overpaying by hundreds of millions of dollars just to tear a hole in my balance sheet."It’s not an investment," I said. My voice was low, flat, and quiet. "It’s a hammer.""He’s bleeding his own capital reserves just to hit you," Maya said, pulling up a chair and leaning forward. Her eyes were sharp, dark

~ Nathan ~The floor-to-ceiling glass in my office reflected a man I barely recognized. The shadows under my eyes looked like bruises. My tie hung loose, the top button of my shirt undone. On the desk, my terminal glowed with a cascade of red numbers.Harrison stood across from me, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. He looked as tired as I felt."He’s doing it quietly," Harrison said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Coldwell Industries isn't making an open bid. Damian Cole is buying up Vanguard’s debt through three separate proxy firms in South America. He’s aiming for a liquidity squeeze."I leaned over the mahogany desk, resting my weight on my knuckles. "Explain it to me simply.""If Vanguard can't cover the short-term margin calls by five o'clock tomorrow, those proxy firms can force an emergency receivership," Harrison said. He pointed a dry finger at the screen. "Cole will effectively own Vanguard's debt. He'll force the board to oust Isabella, freeze her assets, and li

~ Isabella ~"Isabella, look at this line right here," Nathan said.He tapped a black dry-erase marker against the large glass wall in the middle of the Vanguard war room. The glass was covered in red, blue, and black ink. Lines, arrows, and company names filled every inch from the floor to the top frame.I set my paper cup of warm coffee on the long conference table. My eyes felt dry and heavy from staring at financial spreadsheets for six hours straight. I stood up from my chair, walked over to the glass wall, and leaned in closer to read his messy handwriting."That is an eight, right?" I asked, pointing to a curved number near the bottom corner. "Or is it a three?"Nathan lowered his marker and squinted at his own writing. He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "It is an eight. At least, I think it was an eight when I wrote it twenty minutes ago.""It looks like a squished spider," I said."Hey, my handwriting is classic," Nathan said, though his voice sounded flat and

~ Isabella ~"Bella, drop whatever you are holding and come downstairs right now," Maya’s voice buzzed through my desk phone. She did not even say hello. Her breath sounded quick and shallow over the speaker."What happened?" I asked, setting down my pen. "Is it Leo? Is it Nathan?""It is the servers," Maya said. "The blue room. Floor three. Do not bring anyone with you except Sterling."I hung up the receiver and stood up so fast my desk chair rolled back against the glass wall. My heart hit against my ribcage in three hard beats. I opened my office door and motioned for Richard Sterling, who was standing near the elevator with a stack of black leather folders."Richard, with me," I said, keeping my voice low. "Third floor. Right now."Sterling adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and tucked the folders under his arm. "Is everything alright, Isabella? You look pale.""We are about to find out," I said.We took the private stairs down to the third floor. The hallway outside the server roo

~ Nathan ~"He went through a second routing hub in Zurich," the investigator said, leaning over his wide wooden desk. He slid a thin gray file folder across the smooth glass. "The IP address points directly to Vanguard’s internal network, but the physical location wasn't an outside breach. It was logged from a laptop inside the executive suite on the forty-second floor."I didn't pick up the folder. I didn't need to. I stared at the name typed on the white label at the top.Richard Sterling."Are you certain?" I asked. My voice sounded flat, stripped of any warmth."The digital signature matches," the investigator said, tapping the paper with a thick finger. "Sterling met with a Coldwell intermediary three times last month. Once in Midtown, twice in New Jersey. The money didn't go to his personal accounts. It went to a trust fund set up under his sister's married name."I stood up, buttoned my jacket, and walked out of the office without saying another word.The air outside was cool