Chapter 4 - The Midnight Toast
Back at our marital home, the atmosphere was thick with triumph.
Ryan poured two crystal flutes of Dom Pérignon champagne, handing one to Jessica as she lounged on the velvet sofa in her designer dress. The anniversary cake sat untouched on the dining table, a pathetic monument to a marriage executed in cold blood.
"To new beginnings," Ryan said, clinking his glass against hers. "And to getting rid of the dead weight."
Jessica giggled, taking a sip. "You're terrible, Ryan. But I have to admit, seeing her walk out of here with just one suitcase was the most satisfying thing I've ever witnessed. She looked pathetic. Honestly, how could you stand looking at her for the past year?"
"I couldn't," Ryan replied, loosening his silk tie. "Pregnancy ruined her. Some women just let themselves go. Thank God you kept your figure, Jess. We're going to Paris next week. First class. No crying babies, no stretch marks, no complaints."
They leaned in for a passionate kiss, completely wrapped up in their own delusions of grandeur.
Ryan glanced at the antique wall clock in the hallway. It was 11:58 PM.
"In two minutes, the divorce decree becomes legally binding under the emergency midnight clause we filed," Ryan murmured, a smug grin spreading across his face. "She has no legal standing to contest anything after tonight. Everything we built is mine."
At precisely 12:00 AM, Ryan's phone buzzed violently on the coffee table.
It wasn't a text message. It was a high-priority alert from Vanguard Global’s executive board chairman, followed immediately by an incoming call from his firm’s managing partner, Arthur Vance.
Ryan frowned, picking up the phone and pressing accept. "Arthur? It's midnight, but I assume you're calling to congratulate me on—"
"Ryan, where the hell are you?!" Arthur’s voice roared through the speaker, loud enough for Jessica to hear every word. The tone wasn't congratulatory; it was laced with sheer, unadulterated panic.
"What are you talking about?" Ryan stammered, his smug smile faltering.
"We just received an encrypted dossier from an anonymous whistleblower detailing systematic embezzlement, offshore accounts, and structural safety violations on the Harborfront project! The board is holding an emergency conference call right now! Vanguard Global just pulled out of the contract, and the SEC has been notified!"
Ryan’s face drained of all color. The champagne glass slipped from his fingers, shattering into a thousand glittering pieces on the hardwood floor.
"That's... that's impossible," Ryan choked out, staggering backward. "Who sent it? Who could possibly know about that?"
Before Arthur could answer, a second notification pinged on Ryan's phone—an official email alert from his bank.
URGENT: Notice of Asset Freeze and Account Suspension.
Ryan tapped the notification with a trembling finger. Every single one of his personal and corporate accounts had been locked due to suspicious multi-million-dollar transfers flagged by federal regulators.
May you like
Jessica sprang up from the sofa, her face twisting in horror. "Ryan? What's happening? Why are you pale? What did your boss just say?"
Ryan didn't answer. He stared at his phone screen in absolute, paralyzing terror as his entire financial empire dissolved into digital dust in a matter of seconds.
