Gavin physically recoiled, panic washing over his face as he watched the billionaire venture capitalist effectively claim his wife. Veronica stood frozen, the color draining entirely from her face. The supreme confidence she wielded seconds ago shattered into a dawning, terrifying comprehension.
I looked her dead in the eyes and delivered the killing blow.
“He is so amazing,” I told her, my voice crystal clear in the sudden silence as Harrison leaned down and kissed my cheek. “He has been such a wonderful support system while you and Gavin have been spending all those late nights in Manhattan hotel rooms. I think the luxury suite you prefer was 412, if I remember the corporate billing records correctly.”
The silence that crashed down on the ballroom was deafening. The string quartet faded into nothingness. Veronica began shaking with pure, unadulterated rage, her designer glass trembling so violently that champagne spilled onto her expensive shoes.
Survival instincts kicking in, Gavin resorted to his favorite weapon. He stepped forward, his face flushed red. “I am so sorry about this,” he announced to the horrified board members, his voice pitching with raw desperation. “My wife is not well. She had a mental breakdown a few weeks ago. She’s suffering from extreme paranoia and delusions. Please excuse her hysterical episode—”
“I am not having a breakdown, Gavin,” I interrupted, the sound of my cold, genuine laugh cutting through his gaslighting like a razor blade. “I am having a breakthrough. And as a crisis manager, I never walk into a room to make an accusation without bringing the receipts.”
I reached into my clutch and pulled out my smartphone. The screen illuminated my face. Gavin saw the clinical certainty in my eyes, and the first true wave of terror washed over his features.
“You thought you could use corporate funds to finance your affair,” I said, locking eyes with Veronica. “You thought you could funnel hundreds of thousands of dollars into a Delaware shell company to buy a luxury condo. But you forgot that a hidden burner phone is only secure if the person packing the suitcase doesn’t know how to crack a simple passcode.”
