Chapter 4 - The Departure

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Graham released my arm as if the silk of my gown had suddenly caught fire. The camera flashes near the entrance had already started pivoting in our direction.

“You are having an episode,” Graham announced loudly, ensuring the closest tables could hear him. “Someone call her doctor. The pregnancy is putting too much strain on her mind.”

I didn't break eye contact. “The only thing straining my mind, Graham, is wondering how you thought you could transfer forty million dollars from the corporate reserve into a Cayman account without me receiving a ping on my secure server.”

His breath hitched. The manufactured crease between his brows vanished, replaced by stark, unadulterated terror.

“What did you just say?” he choked out.

“I said goodbye, Graham,” I replied.

I turned my back on him, my champagne-colored gown sweeping across the marble floor. I walked toward the grand double doors of the ballroom. The crowd parted for me like the Red Sea. No one whispered. No one moved. The silence was absolute, save for the rhythmic clicking of my heels.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two Wall Street Journal reporters aggressively typing into their phones, their eyes wide with the scoop of the decade. I had sent them an encrypted dossier exactly one hour before the gala began. By midnight, Graham’s financial fraud would be front-page news.

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“Avery!” Graham yelled, his voice cracking, shedding the polished billionaire persona completely. “Avery, stop right there!”

I didn't stop. I walked out into the cool, dimly lit corridor of the forty-second floor, leaving the suffocating smell of white orchids and expensive champagne behind me. I pressed the elevator button. The steel doors opened instantly, as if the building itself was eager to help me escape the wreckage I had just created.