PART 3 — The Auditing of a Son
Vanessa stood up so fast her champagne glass rattled against the side table. "Dad, that’s impossible! You must be misreading it. Daniel is the CEO! He’s the founder!"
"He is an employee, Vanessa," Richard said, slamming the folder shut with a sound like a pistol shot. He looked at Daniel, his eyes full of professional contempt. "He is a salaried manager with a standard corporate expense account. Every single asset—the commercial real estate, the maritime dock options, the checking accounts—is owned by a single individual who holds one hundred percent of the voting stock."
Richard turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto me. "Margaret Hartwell."
Eleanor Vale gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as if she had just witnessed a street robbery. "What? The... the catering woman?"
"Mom, why are you doing this?" Daniel finally broke his silence, his voice cracking with a high-pitched, pathetic desperation. He stood up, his hands shaking as he looked at me. "Tonight was my chance! Tonight was supposed to be the day we took the company to the next level! Why do you have to ruin everything because of an argument in the kitchen?"
"An argument, Daniel?" I asked, my voice remaining entirely calm as I stood up from my chair. I walked over to him, standing close enough that he could see the reflection of his own cowardice in my eyes. "Your wife spat food into my face. She looked at me and told me I was disgusting, just like the blouse your father bought me before he died. And your response was to pat her shoulder and tell her to calm down because her wealthy parents were arriving."
Richard Vale looked at his daughter, his eyes narrowing. "Vanessa? Is this true?"
"She's lying!" Vanessa shrieked, her face turning a vivid, ugly red as her high-society facade completely shattered. "She's an old, bitter woman who is jealous of our life! She threw a twenty-pound turkey through my dining room window! She’s mentally unstable, Dad! You can't believe her!"
"I don't need anyone to believe me, Vanessa," I said, turning to look at Richard. "The kitchen we were standing in has a security system. Daniel insisted on installing it last year after a series of neighborhood break-ins. The audio and video from forty minutes ago are already backed up on the cloud server. If you'd like, Richard, I can have my assistant forward the footage directly to your phone."
Vanessa went entirely silent, her breath hitching in her throat. She looked at Daniel, looking for a denial, but Daniel was staring at the floor, his face completely hollowed out by the realization that his entire world had just dissolved.
"You funded the failed restaurant venture too, didn't you?" Richard asked me, his professional instincts completely overriding his family loyalty. "The one Daniel told us he sold for a profit before he moved here?"
"There was no profit, Richard," I said plainly. "He lost three hundred thousand dollars of my late husband’s retirement funds because he was too proud to listen to his chefs. I cleared his debts, bought this house under the Hartwell corporate name, and gave him a manager’s salary so he could maintain his dignity in front of his new wife. I wanted him to learn how to run a business properly before I handed him the keys to the kingdom."
I looked at my son, the boy I had raised, the boy I had protected from every hardship. "But I realized tonight that I didn't build his confidence. I built his entitlement. And I allowed him to think that silence in the face of cruelty is acceptable as long as the check clears."
"Margaret, please," Eleanor Vale stammered, her voice losing its aristocratic edge, replaced by a sudden, sharp panic. "Let’s not do anything rash. This is a family matter. Surely we can find a compromise. Daniel and Vanessa are a young couple under immense pressure—"
"There is no compromise, Eleanor," I said, picking up my handbag from the chair. "As of 8:00 PM tonight, the corporate board of Hartwell Holdings—which consists entirely of myself—has voted to terminate Daniel Hartwell from his position as general manager due to gross breach of fiduciary trust and conduct unbecoming of the firm."
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Daniel looked up, his eyes wide with a horrific, child-like terror. "Mom... you're firing me?"
"Yes, Daniel," I said, my voice breaking for the very first time, but only for a fraction of a second. "I am firing you. And you have twenty-four hours to vacate this property, because this house belongs to the corporation. And the corporation is closing this branch."
