Chapter 5 - The Red Silk Trap
Two hours later, in a small, sleek espresso bar on the Upper East Side, Vanessa Sterling sat at a window table, wearing a dark trench coat and oversized sunglasses.
She was sipping a cappuccino, checking her phone every ten seconds, looking visibly nervous. She had been trying to reach Ethan for three hours, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
Her phone chimed on the table. A text message appeared from an unknown number:
“Ethan’s corporate card has been reactivated. Meet at the St. Regis lobby bar in twenty minutes to collect the final offshore transfer documents.”
Vanessa’s face lit up with greedy relief. She immediately threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table, grabbed her designer handbag, and hurried out the door into the crisp morning air.
Twenty minutes later, Vanessa walked into the grand, velvet-curtained lobby of the St. Regis Hotel.
She looked around for Ethan, but instead of her former lover, she saw me sitting in a plush leather armchair near the fireplace, wearing an elegant white silk blouse and tailored trousers. On the small glass table before me sat a thin silver laptop and a single manila folder.
Vanessa froze. She tried to turn around and head toward the exit, but two female plainclothes officers in dark suits stepped quietly into her path, blocking the doors.
"Sit down, Vanessa," I said smoothly, gesturing to the armchair opposite mine.
Vanessa swallowed hard, smoothing down her trench coat as she walked over and sat down, her chin tilted upward in a desperate attempt at defiance. "What is this, Laurel? Are you following me now? If you think you can intimidate me just because you have daddy's money—"
"Ethan was arrested two hours ago at Whitmore headquarters," I interrupted quietly.
Vanessa went dead quiet. Her hand froze over her handbag zipper. "What... what are you talking about?"
"Grand larceny. Wire fraud. Embezzlement," I said, sliding the manila folder across the table toward her. "The DA opened a full investigation into Apex Logistics LLC. They executed a search warrant on your Delaware bank accounts forty-five minutes ago. All $1.4 million has been frozen."
Vanessa’s lips trembled. The cold, arrogant smirk she had worn yesterday in my bridal car was completely gone, replaced by a look of sheer, paralyzing panic.
"I... I didn't know the money was stolen," Vanessa stammered, her voice rising into a frantic squeak. "Ethan told me it was his executive performance bonus! He told me he was an owner of Whitmore! I was just a contractor!"
"You signed twelve fraudulent invoices for structural steel that was never delivered, Vanessa," I said, opening my laptop screen to display her digital signatures. "You set up the shell company ninety days ago. And yesterday, you showed up at my wedding to make sure Ethan didn't back out of the marriage before the final transfer cleared."
Vanessa dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet, terrified sobs. "Please... Laurel... I don't want to go to jail. It was all Ethan's idea! He told me you were stupid! He told me you would never check the accounts because you were too busy planning a wedding!"
I looked at her with pity and disgust.
"I was planning a wedding, Vanessa," I said softly, standing up from my chair and buttoning my coat. "But unlike you and Ethan, I was also running a billion-dollar company."
I looked over at the two plainclothes officers waiting near the hearth.
May you like
"She’s all yours, officers," I said.
As the female officers stepped forward, displaying their badges and leading a weeping Vanessa out through the side entrance of the St. Regis, I picked up my leather bag and walked out into the bright afternoon sunlight of 5th Avenue.
