The beneficial owner had originally been hidden behind an agent.
The money trail had not stayed hidden.
Vivian opened her mouth.
“No.”
Corbin stood.
“This meeting is over.”
Nobody moved.
He looked toward Blythe.
“Tell them.”
Blythe’s expression remained flat.
“You are not chairing this meeting.”
“I am the executive producer of the company’s largest release.”
“You are a contracted producer.”
“I built this film.”
Selena finally looked directly at him.
“No. You built a story around yourself.”
Corbin’s chair scraped backward.
His composure fractured.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Selena continued.
“Arclight Meridian received four-point-eight million dollars in consulting payments from North Arbor Literary Holdings over twenty-two months.”
A board member named Theodore Price looked down at the contracts.
“North Arbor controls the source novel.”
“Yes,” Malcolm said.
Another director raised his head.
“And Arclight Meridian is controlled by Mr. Ashford?”
“Indirectly.”
Corbin slammed his palm against the table.
“I negotiated those rights.”
Selena did not react.
“You paid yourself through the seller.”
“I was compensated for facilitating the deal.”
“Without disclosing the compensation to Vellum Crown.”
“It was not Vellum Crown money.”
“That is not the standard.”
“It wasn’t illegal.”
Malcolm finally spoke.
“We did not say it was.”
Corbin froze.
Malcolm remained calm.
“We said you failed to disclose a personal financial interest while recommending that Vellum Crown acquire and finance a property from the entity paying you.”
One director closed his copy of the contract.
“That is a conflict.”
“A severe one,” another said.
Corbin pointed at Selena.
“This is personal.”
Her face remained unreadable.
“It became corporate the day you put it into a contract.”
Vivian was still staring at the registration documents.
Her voice was smaller now.
“You told me Arclight Meridian belonged to an investor.”
Corbin turned toward her.
“Vivian.”
“You said it was an investor helping you structure your backend.”
“Not here.”
“You told me you were taking all the risk yourself.”
“I said not here.”
She stood.
And suddenly the woman who had entered a cemetery on Corbin’s arm looked less like a mistress and more like someone realizing she had walked into another person’s burning house.
“Did you use my name?”
Corbin’s face hardened.
Selena watched him closely.
There it was.
A second fear.
Not the company.
Not the board.
Vivian.
Malcolm opened another folder.
Corbin moved toward him.
“Don’t.”
It was the first honest word he had spoken all morning.
Malcolm stopped.
Not because Corbin ordered him to.
Because Selena lifted one finger.
She looked at Vivian.
“Did Corbin ever ask you to sign documents connected to promotional consulting?”
Vivian kept her eyes on him.
“A few.”
“When?”
“Over the last year.”
“What did he tell you they were?”
“Appearance agreements. Brand consulting. Media work.”
Corbin stepped between them.
“This is harassment.”
Selena ignored him.
“Did you receive the money?”
Vivian slowly shook her head.
“No.”
Corbin spun toward her.
“Think carefully.”
Vivian’s expression shifted.
She hated the way he said it.
Selena knew that look.
She had worn it herself for years.
The instant a woman realizes a man is not asking her to remember.
He is telling her what to say.
Vivian sat down.
“Show me.”
Malcolm placed the pages before her.
Three invoices.
Her name.
Her signature.
Payments totaling one-point-two million dollars.
Vivian’s breathing changed.
“I never received this.”
Corbin answered quickly.
“You benefited from it.”
She stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Trips. Jewelry. The apartment.”
Vivian went still.
“You told me the apartment was yours.”
“It effectively is.”
“It is in my name.”
“Because I structured it that way.”
Selena turned to Malcolm.
“How much of the one-point-two million was deposited into accounts actually controlled by Vivian?”
“Forty-six thousand dollars.”
Vivian stared at him.
“Forty-six?”
Malcolm nodded.
“The remaining funds were routed through two entities connected to Mr. Ashford.”
Corbin laughed.
The sound was brittle.
“You people are turning bookkeeping into a crime.”
Selena lowered her voice.
“Corbin, no one has accused you of a crime in this room.”
He looked at her.
“Then what do you want?”
That question had existed between them for twelve years.
What do you want?
Whenever she asked him to come home.
Whenever she asked him not to humiliate an assistant.
Whenever she asked why her recommendations became his ideas as soon as they succeeded.
Whenever she asked why every achievement needed an audience but every failure needed someone else to blame.
What do you want?
Years ago, Selena would have answered.
Our marriage.
Respect.
An apology.
A reason.
Now she gave him one word.
“Accuracy.”
Corbin stared.
She pushed the board recommendation toward him.
“The recommendation does not terminate you.”
His eyes narrowed.
“It suspends release authority pending an independent audit.”
Theodore Price looked up.
“And pauses the premiere.”
Corbin turned sharply toward him.
“You cannot pause the premiere.”
Selena answered.
“We can.”
“Do you understand what that does to the campaign?”
“Yes.”
“The press is already flying in.”
“Yes.”
“We have international buyers arriving.”
“Yes.”
“You would destroy a two-hundred-million-dollar launch because you’re angry at your husband?”
Selena’s eyes hardened.
“Ex-husband.”
For the first time, someone at the far end of the table looked away.
Not from discomfort.
From satisfaction.
Corbin heard it.
Everyone did.
The divorce petition was not final.
But the marriage already was.
He leaned forward.
“You want revenge?”
“No.”
“You want me humiliated?”
“No.”
“You want Vivian humiliated?”
Selena looked toward her.
“No.”
Vivian lowered her gaze.
Corbin gave another laugh.
“Then what is this?”
Selena opened the folder her father had left behind.
She placed his handwritten note on the table.
“My father left me one instruction.”
Corbin’s face tightened at the mention of him.
Selena continued.
“Never use power to punish someone for hurting you.”
Corbin opened his hands.
“Exactly.”
“But he wrote another sentence below it.”
She read it.
“Never confuse refusing revenge with refusing accountability.”
Nobody spoke.
Corbin’s smile disappeared.
Selena closed the note.
“The audit proceeds.”
He looked around the boardroom.
“You all understand I can walk.”
Blythe answered.
“You already did.”
His eyes shot toward her.
She held his gaze.
“At the cemetery,” she said.
The words landed harder than Selena expected.
Because Corbin’s anger now had only one place left to go.
Toward the people who were no longer frightened of him.
He gathered his papers.
“This company will regret this.”
Selena watched him approach the door.
Then Malcolm spoke.
“One more thing.”
Corbin stopped.
Malcolm laid a final document on the table.
“The temporary preservation order.”
Corbin did not turn around.
“What order?”
“Company counsel is formally instructing all parties connected to The Glass Monarch not to delete, alter, conceal, transfer, or destroy project records.”
Corbin slowly turned.
“You think I’m going to destroy evidence?”
Malcolm’s gaze stayed steady.
“I think your laptop was remotely wiped at 6:14 this morning.”
Silence filled the room.
Vivian stood again.
Corbin remained where he was.
For several seconds, he seemed unable to move.
Something cold settled in Selena’s chest.
She had not known that.
Malcolm had.
He looked toward her.
“The security team confirmed it twenty minutes before the meeting.”
Corbin recovered quickly.
“My laptop malfunctioned.”
“Only project folders were deleted.”
“It was hacked.”
“Then you will have no objection to forensic recovery.”
Corbin looked at Malcolm.
Then Selena.
Then Vivian.
His thoughts were moving quickly now.
Everyone could see it.
He was no longer fighting to save the film.
He was calculating his exposure.
Vivian stepped farther away from him.
“What else is there?”
Corbin shook his head.
“Nothing.”
She turned to Selena.
“What else?”
Selena hesitated.
Her father’s warning returned to her.
Do not act from pain.
So she chose the truth.
“We don’t know yet.”
