Chapter 13 - The Corporate Spy
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The flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers illuminated the Harbor Hotel courtyard.
I stood on the front steps, wrapping my coat tightly around my shoulders, watching as Sloane Mercer was read her Miranda rights. She looked pathetic, her pristine makeup smeared with tears, the expensive dress looking suddenly cheap in the harsh light.
She caught my eye as the officer pushed her head down to guide her into the back of the squad car.
There was no apology in her gaze. Only venom.
Julian Thorne was being loaded into a separate car, shouting violently at his lawyers through his cell phone. Corporate espionage, extortion, and wire fraud. He was looking at a decade in federal prison.
“It’s done,” Arthur said quietly, stepping up beside me.
“Yes,” I replied, feeling a strange emptiness instead of victory.
A few yards away, Evan sat on the edge of an ambulance, a paramedic tending to the cut on his face. He looked broken. A man who had traded his marriage, his family, and his empire for an illusion.
He looked up and saw me watching him.
He pushed the paramedic away and slowly walked over. He didn't look at his father. He only looked at me.
“Claire,” he rasped, his voice trembling. “I… I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know she was playing me.”
“It doesn’t matter, Evan.”
“It does matter! I lost everything. I lost my job, my reputation… I lost you.” He reached out, his hand hovering inches from my arm, desperate to touch me but terrified I would pull away. “Please. Give me a chance to fix this. I’ll do anything.”
I looked at the man I had loved for six years. The man I had built my entire life around.
“Do you remember what she said to me on Christmas Eve?” I asked softly.
Evan flinched.
“She said I had you for six years, and I should let you go with some dignity.” I stepped back, finally creating physical space between my past and my future. “You’re free, Evan. I’m letting you go.”
“Claire, please—”
May you like
“Sign the divorce papers on Monday,” I interrupted, my voice turning to ice. “If you try to fight me for a single dime, I will release the rest of the audio to the press. You won’t just be a victim of a scam; you’ll be the laughingstock of Boston.”
I turned on my heel and walked toward Arthur’s waiting limousine, leaving Evan standing alone in the freezing winter wind.
