Chapter 4 The Desperate Suppression
704 Words
"Zoey, the resort project fell through..."
My assistant, Tina Barton, set the termination letter on my desk.
"This makes seven this month."
I looked at my screen, where cancellation emails crowded my inbox one after another.
"There's more..." Tina said carefully. "Two department leads didn't come in today. HR says they left for Larsen Group."
I closed my eyes for a second.
"Got it. You can go."
The office fell into a silence that felt almost abandoned.
Headlines kept rolling across my screen, one uglier than the last.
"Rising Designer Zoey Accused of Sleeping Her Way to the Top as Investors Pull Out"
"Architectural Genius or Manufactured Image? Sources Say Zoey Slept Her Way to the Top"
"Industry Insider Claims Zoey Studio's Core Team Has Walked Out Amid Internal Conflict"
I clicked into the comments. They were vile.
My phone rang. It was Carl.
"Stop reading any of it," he said, his voice calm and even. "I already have my legal team working on it. The cease-and-desist letters will go out soon."
"What about the patent they filed using my concept drawings?"
He was silent for a second. "Someone leaned on the patent office. The paperwork moved way too fast." He paused. "Zoey, his connections run deeper than we thought."
I gave a short laugh. "So this time he thinks he can bury me."
"But he can't," Carl said, without hesitation. "What do you need from me?"
"Nothing yet," I said. "We wait for him to come in person."
I had barely ended the call when my office door opened again.
Mateo stood in the doorway, looking unbearably pleased with himself.
"Zoey's the hottest name in town right now," he said as he strolled in. "You're getting incredible press."
He tossed a folder onto my desk.
"Take a look. Ring any bells?"
It was the proposal for the arts center project.
It was the largest job my firm still had, and the only major client who had not officially walked away.
Three days earlier, the client had called me himself and said, "Zoey, I trust you. We're still on."
"He's actually a decent guy," Mateo said as he dropped into a chair. "Too bad his wife and Sasha's mother sit on the same charity boards... Want to guess how that worked out?"
I closed the folder.
"So?" I asked.
"So?" Mateo repeated, like I had said something absurd. "Zoey, do you still not get it? Your team is gone. Your clients are gone. Your reputation is in the gutter. Your patent's been stolen. What do you have left besides an office you probably can't afford?"
Then he smiled. "But I'm not heartless. We were married once. I'm willing to throw you a lifeline. Get on your knees. Ask me nicely. Beg me to back off. Maybe I'll throw you enough work to keep the lights on."
I looked at him. "Are you done?"
Mateo frowned.
I pressed the intercom button. "Security, I need someone removed from my office."
"Zoey, you..."
"Get out," I said.
He jabbed a finger at me, furious. "You've got a lot of nerve! We'll see how long that lasts!"
After he left, the office went quiet again.
I sat back down, opened the folder on my computer, and reviewed the evidence I had been building piece by piece.
There were audio files of Mateo admitting he had shifted assets. There were recordings of Mateo and Sasha discussing the embezzlement of project funds.
There were photos of Sasha entering and leaving private clubs with different men.
There were timestamps on my original concept sketches and meeting records that proved exactly when the designs had been created.
Outside the window, Mateo's car tore out of the lot.
I picked up my phone.
"Larry, it's Zoey. Move forward with everything we discussed."
"All of it?" Larry Hebert asked.
"Yes," I said. "All of it."
When I hung up, I stood and walked out of the office.
My phone buzzed with a breaking news alert.
Breaking News: Major blogger alleges Larsen Group may be tied to money laundering and improper financial transfers. Regulators have reportedly opened an investigation...
I drew in a slow breath and lifted my head.
The real fallout was just beginning.
- Writer
