Chapter 5 - Back to the Wolves
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The air in the courtyard felt charged with high-voltage electricity.
All the self-doubt, the humiliation of seven public rejections, and the gut-wrenching feeling of worthlessness evaporated from my veins, replaced by a cold, surgical fury.
"David," I said, fixing my bow tie with steady hands. "Can we use these documents in court?"
"They were discarded in a public hotel room trash receptacle," David said, his legal mind moving at lightning speed. "Elena is a hotel employee who collected them during normal duties. Combined with our forensic digital trail, this isn't just enough to stop the board vote—it's enough to file federal fraud charges against Nolan tomorrow morning."
"No," I said. "Not tomorrow morning. Tonight."
Maya stepped up, gripping my arm. "Ethan, what are you going to do?"
"Nolan thinks I’m broken," I said, looking toward the heavy double doors leading back into the grand ballroom. "He thinks I’m sitting in the dark weeping over my ruined reputation while he celebrates his victory with my board."
I turned to Elena, pulled out my leather wallet, and extracted every bill inside—nearly twelve hundred dollars in cash. I held it out to her.
"Elena," I said softly. "You just saved my life. Take this."
Elena looked at the cash, then pushed my hand back gently.
"I don't want your money, Mr. Mercer," she said, her brown eyes firm and steady. "I just want you to make sure men like him don't win."
I looked at her for a long second, deeply moved, before nodding once. "I promise you he won't."
May you like
I turned on my heel and walked back toward the ballroom, David and Maya walking on either side of me like twin shadows.
When I pushed open the grand double doors of the ballroom, the string quartet was playing a soft waltz. Four hundred rich, powerful Chicagoans were sipping champagne, completely unaware that the execution had just been cancelled—and the executioner was about to become the target.
