“A notice,” I said. “The bank’s risk committee receives the full package at nine tomorrow morning.”
Daniel snatched the pages and quickly scanned the first paragraph.
Madison stopped smiling.
For months, Daniel had told everyone that I was merely the “numbers person” at Harrington Logistics.
The truth was very different.
When the company nearly collapsed two years earlier, I used an inheritance from my grandmother as collateral to secure emergency financing.
I also negotiated a covenant allowing me to withdraw my personal guarantee if financial misconduct materially increased the company’s risk.
The audit proved exactly that.
Daniel looked up, pale.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I already signed the withdrawal.”
His mother shot to her feet.
“You vindictive little—”
“My lawyer has copies of every forged reimbursement Madison submitted,” I continued. “Including the hotel in Miami, the jewelry purchases, and the $11,600 ‘client dinner’ that happened on a yacht.”
Madison’s mouth fell open.
Daniel turned toward her.
“What did you do?”
She pointed at me. “She’s lying!”
“I have receipts, security footage, and the card authorization logs.”
Daniel’s father reached for the documents with trembling hands.
“If the guarantee is pulled, the bank can freeze the revolving line.”
“Yes.”
“Our payroll clears Friday.”
“I know.”
His arrogance disappeared almost instantly.
Daniel stared at me as if I had become a stranger.
“Claire, we can talk at home.”
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