Chapter 4 - The Audit on Display
My stomach twisted into a knot of pure ice. The air in the ballroom felt suffocating. Lawrence turned his head slowly, his piercing gaze locking onto me. He didn't need to ask for verbal confirmation; he remembered the reporting discrepancy I had brought up during my mid-evaluation review. I hadn't accused Brandon then; I had presented it strictly as a systemic vulnerability that needed patching.
Now, the puzzle pieces snapped together with brutal clarity.
Lawrence turned back toward the stage, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. “You altered executive reporting data?”
“I adjusted presentation,” Brandon mumbled defensively, his speech thick and slurred.
“Whose numbers?” Lawrence demanded, stepping onto the platform.
Brandon’s bloodshot eyes drifted across the room until they landed heavily on me. He didn't have to say my name. The venom in his gaze said it all.
That was the exact moment the wedding reception ceased to be a social gathering and transformed into a corporate tribunal. The illusion was shattered beyond repair.
I slowly stood up from my seat, smoothing the silk of my dress. The eyes of every single guest—investors, executives, family members, and friends—turned toward me.
“Did you change my department’s numbers?” I asked, my voice cutting cleanly through the heavy silence of the room.
Brandon gave me the exact same patronizing, irritated expression he had worn a hundred times throughout our childhood. The look that said I was lesser, incompetent, and out of my depth.
“I made the report more realistic,” he spat out, swaying on his feet.
“Then why did finance reissue it?” I pressed, taking two steady steps down the aisle toward the stage.
His jaw tightened painfully, the blue tint on his skin making him look spectral under the golden lights. “You don't understand how executive reporting works. You never did.”
For years, whenever Brandon felt threatened, he always fell back on those exact words. You don't understand. You got lucky. Your job is just making things look pretty.
I stopped at the foot of the stage, lifting my chin as I looked up at the man who had tried to poison me on my wedding day.
“Then answer the question, Brandon. If my numbers were real, why did you alter them before they reached the board?”
He opened his mouth to retort, but no sound came out. The physical collapse was catching up to him. His knees buckled entirely, and he slammed hard onto the polished wooden stage, gasping for air as the chemical worked its way through his system.
Lawrence stepped over my fallen brother without a second glance. He walked to the edge of the stage, looked down at me, and then swept his gaze across the stunned room.
“The wedding will proceed,” Lawrence announced, his voice echoing with absolute authority. “The board will convene in the executive suite at 8:00 AM tomorrow morning for an emergency audit of all Q3 reporting.”
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He looked back down at me, a rare, profound flicker of respect touching his stern eyes.
“And Vanessa?” Lawrence added quietly. “Wear something professional.”
