Chapter 5 - The Glass Tower
At eight-thirty the next morning, the rain in Manhattan was falling sideways, slicking the glass facade of the Wainwright Global building on Wall Street.
Inside the sixty-fourth-floor executive suite, Arthur Wainwright stood behind a massive mahogany desk, his knuckles pressed against the wood, staring at three television monitors mounted on the wall.
Every single financial news network was broadcasting the same headline running along the bottom ticker:
ASHFORD ENTERPRISES CANCELS WAINWRIGHT MERGER; NOLAN ASHFORD NAMES SOLE HEIR.
Standing near the leather sofa was Celeste, wearing a sharp grey suit, her dark circles covered in heavy makeup. Her hands were shaking as she held a glass of iced water.
“He’s crazy, Dad,” Celeste said, her voice rising in pitch. “He’s completely ruined! He sat there on the floor holding that maid’s brat like she was royalty! He threw my ring at the wall!”
“Shut up, Celeste!” Arthur roared, turning around with a bloodshot face. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You had one job! Secure the Ashford marriage so we could consolidate the Newark terminal debts before the quarterly audit!”
“How was I supposed to know the maid was keeping the child on the estate?!” Celeste shrieked. “You told me four years ago that you made the mother sign a non-disclosure agreement!”
“I did!” Arthur slammed his fist onto the desk. “I gave her fifty thousand dollars for her mother’s medical bills and had her sign a non-disparagement agreement! But if Nolan establishes legal paternity, that document isn't worth the paper it’s printed on! He will have full access to her financial history, including the bank transfers from my Cayman accounts!”
Before Celeste could answer, the frosted glass doors of the executive suite swung open.
Nolan Ashford stepped into the room.
He wore a dark charcoal suit, a black overcoat draped over his arm, and an expression so absolute, so devoid of fear, that Arthur Wainwright instinctively stepped back behind his desk.
Behind Nolan walked Evelyn Vance, carrying two heavy leather briefcases, and two uniformed officers from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Arthur’s face went white. “Nolan... what is the meaning of this? You can't just barge into my private—”
“Arthur,” Nolan said smoothly, walking to the center of the room and stopping. He didn't look at Celeste. He acted as if she were made of air. “I brought some reading material for you.”
Evelyn Vance stepped forward, opened one of the briefcases, and pulled out a stack of legal documents stamped with the seal of the United States District Court.
“This is a formal subpoena,” Evelyn announced in a sharp, metallic voice. “Regarding the illegal diversion of funds through the Newark Port Authority, tax evasion, and corporate extortion.”
Arthur trembled. “This is ridiculous! You have no proof!”
“My brother kept good records, Arthur,” Nolan said, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. “He knew you were using Wainwright Global to bleed my family’s trust. He died before he could present them to the board, but I read them last night.”
Nolan took one step closer to Arthur’s desk.
“And then,” Nolan continued, “I spoke to Mae Harper.”
Celeste gasped, dropping her water glass. It shattered on the carpet.
Nolan finally turned his head to look at Celeste. His gray eyes were colder than the ice rain outside the window.
“Extortion,” Nolan said softly. “Threatening a vulnerable employee with her mother’s medical care to hide my child from me for four years. That isn't just civil liability, Celeste. That’s a felony.”
Celeste’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She looked at the two FBI officers standing by the door. One of them pulled a small notebook from his pocket, watching her closely.
“Nolan, please...” Arthur stammered, his arrogant composure completely collapsing. He reached out his trembling hands. “We can settle this! The merger can still work! We can adjust the equity terms... thirty percent... forty percent! Whatever you want!”
Nolan looked at the man who had tried to steal his family, his daughter, and his life.
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“I don't want your money, Arthur,” Nolan said. “I want your company destroyed. And by four o'clock today, when the SEC freezes your trading accounts, it will be.”
Nolan turned on his heel, wrapping his overcoat around his shoulders, and walked out of the glass tower without looking back.
