PART4

Daniel’s expression became serious.

“We found more than we expected.”

I turned toward him.

“How much more?”

He removed several pages from the folder.

“Over the past eighteen months, a series of consulting payments were made to three companies that appear to have little legitimate business activity. The payments were approved under Julian’s executive authority.”

“Total?”

“Approximately $1.7 million.”

My stomach tightened.

I had suspected that Julian was careless with money. I had not wanted to believe he might be deliberately abusing his position.

“Can we establish where the money went?”

“We’re tracing the transactions now. Some records suggest connections to people associated with Lila. But we need to verify the details before making any accusations.”

I took a slow breath.

“Don’t let anyone rush this. I want facts, not revenge.”

“That’s exactly what I told the forensic accountants.”

Daniel closed the folder.

“There is something else.”

I waited.

“Julian has been telling people that the company is in excellent financial condition. But several internal reports show that he approved an expansion project without obtaining the necessary financing. If the board had continued under his plan, Ashford Medical could have faced a serious liquidity problem within six months.”

I stared at him.

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“You were. Three of your emails were redirected to an executive assistant, and the responses sent back to you were apparently drafted by Julian’s office.”

I felt a coldness spread through my chest.

For months, I had believed the company was performing better than ever.

Julian had shown me polished presentations, impressive projections, and smiling photographs of new facilities. He had told me the business was thriving, that I should take a step back, that he could handle everything while I focused on my own life.

I had believed him because I wanted to believe my husband was building something wonderful.

Instead, he had been building a wall between me and the company my father had left me.

“Daniel,” I said quietly, “how long have you known?”

“Suspicions began several weeks ago. We only received enough documentation to justify the formal review yesterday.”

I nodded.

I didn’t want to cry.

Not because I wasn’t hurt, but because I was finally beginning to understand the difference between grief and weakness.

Grief was what I felt for the marriage I had lost.

Weakness would have been allowing that grief to blind me again.

“Proceed with the investigation,” I said. “Protect the employees, preserve the evidence, and make sure the board understands that no one is above the rules.”

Daniel gave me a small nod.

“Your father would have been proud of that answer.”

For the first time that day, my smile disappeared.

My father.

He had been gone for six years, yet there were moments when I still reached for the phone to tell him something important.

He had built Ashford Medical from a rented warehouse with three employees and a stubborn belief that quality mattered more than appearances.

When he became ill, I sat beside his hospital bed and promised I would protect what he had created.

I had kept that promise to the company.

I had failed to keep it to myself.

“I should have listened to him,” I whispered.

Daniel didn’t ask what I meant.

He knew.

My father had warned me that Julian loved the doors my name could open more than he loved the person standing beside him.

At the time, I had been furious.

Now I wished I could hear that warning one more time.

The car began moving.

“Where are we going?” Daniel asked.

I looked at the folder in his hands.

“To the office.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You have a board meeting in a little over two hours.”

“I know.”

“Julian will be there.”

“I know that, too.”

“And Vivian may arrive with him.”

I turned toward the window again.

“Then we’d better make sure there’s enough coffee.”

For the first time in months, I felt something other than fear.

I felt ready.

At 2:35 p.m., I entered the Ashford Medical headquarters for what I suspected would be the last time as its current occupant.

The building stood in the center of the financial district, its glass exterior reflecting the pale afternoon sky. My father had purchased the original property when the company was barely surviving. Over the years, I had overseen its expansion, its renovations, and the construction of the laboratory wing.

I knew every floor.

Every conference room.

Every place where I had once sat alone after midnight, reviewing accounts while the cleaning staff worked around me.

The receptionist stood when she saw me.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Ashford.”

“Good afternoon, Grace.”

Her eyes moved briefly to Daniel, then back to me.

“Everyone is waiting in the boardroom.”

I nodded.

As I crossed the lobby, employees began emerging from their offices.

Some greeted me quietly.

Others simply watched.

I wondered how many of them had heard Julian’s version of the divorce. I wondered how many believed I had lost control of the company and would never return.

Then a young financial analyst approached me.

“Ms. Ashford?”

I stopped.

“Yes?”

He looked nervous.

“I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re here.”

The words caught me off guard.

“Thank you. Why do you say that?”

He hesitated, then glanced toward the executive elevators.

“Because some of us were worried about the direction things were going.”

I studied him carefully.

“Have you raised your concerns with anyone?”

“We tried. A few reports were dismissed. We were told the executive team had everything under control.”

“Do you have copies of the reports?”

“Yes.”

“Keep them safe. Give them to the independent review team, and make sure you keep a copy of anything you submit through the proper company channels.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Of course.”

I gave him a reassuring nod before continuing down the corridor.

That brief conversation told me something important.

Julian had not merely damaged my marriage.

His decisions had affected people who had trusted the company to provide them with stable jobs and meaningful work.

And unlike Julian, those people had never been given the luxury of pretending the consequences belonged to someone else.

When I reached the boardroom, Daniel opened the door.

Eight directors sat around the long table.

At the far end stood Julian.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART5…