Chapter 5 - The Empire Starts Falling
By noon, the story had spread through the financial district.
Whitmore Holdings shares weren’t publicly traded.
But its lenders knew.
Its contractors knew.
Its investors knew.
And by lunchtime, its employees knew.
The Escalante Group had withdrawn support.
Andrew’s office became chaos.
Phones rang constantly.
Executives crowded the hallways.
Suppliers demanded payment.
One investor wanted immediate repayment of twelve million dollars.
Another suspended a development partnership.
A third demanded Andrew’s resignation.
Andrew stood inside the boardroom.
“I built this company.”
One board member looked exhausted.
“No, Andrew.”
He pushed a stack of documents across the table.
“Apparently Mariana built it.”
Andrew’s face reddened.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“She funded the rescue package.”
“I negotiated that package.”
“You negotiated with intermediaries working for her.”
Another director spoke.
“Three times.”
Andrew looked around the room.
Nobody defended him.
His phone vibrated.
MARGARET.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Then Brenda.
He ignored her too.
The board chairman folded his hands.
“We need you to step aside temporarily.”
Andrew stared at him.
“You’re removing me?”
“We’re protecting the company.”
“It’s my company.”
“Your ownership is heavily pledged.”
Andrew froze.
“To whom?”
Nobody answered.
He already knew.
Escalante.
Andrew left the boardroom at 1:26 p.m.
By 1:31, his building access card stopped working.
He stood outside the executive elevator.
He swiped again.
Red light.
Again.
Red.
His assistant approached carefully.
“Mr. Whitmore.”
“What?”
“The board asked me to collect your office belongings.”
Andrew looked at her.
She had worked for him for seven years.
“You too?”
Her eyes lowered.
“I have three children.”
Andrew understood.
Everyone was protecting themselves.
Because nobody believed he could protect them anymore.
He walked out carrying one cardboard box.
Photographers were waiting outside.
Someone had leaked the story.
“Andrew!”
“Is Mariana Escalante your wife?”
“Did Escalante money secretly finance Whitmore Holdings?”
“Did you assault Ms. Escalante at a private event last night?”
Andrew stopped.
That question changed everything.
“How do you know about that?”
Cameras flashed.
Another reporter shouted.
“Is it true you accused her of theft?”
Andrew pushed through the crowd.
Then he saw a television screen inside a café across the street.
The ballroom footage was playing.
His stomach dropped.
Someone had released it.
Not the entire video.
Only twenty-three seconds.
Andrew striking Mariana.
Mariana wiping her lip.
Andrew pointing toward the floor.
Kneel.
The clip replayed.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Andrew stared through the glass.
For the first time, he saw himself from the outside.
He didn’t look powerful.
He looked cruel.
His phone buzzed.
A text message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
YOU DESERVE THIS.
Another arrived.
MONSTER.
Then another.
Andrew shut off the phone.
He climbed into a taxi because his cars were gone.
“Where to?”
The driver asked.
Andrew hesitated.
He almost said home.
Then he remembered.
The mansion wasn’t his home anymore.
It belonged to Mariana.
“Whitmore Estate.”
The driver looked at him in the mirror.
Then looked again.
Recognition appeared.
Andrew saw it.
May you like
The driver had seen the video.
Neither man spoke for the rest of the ride.
