“Whitmore Capital has triggered the emergency review clause on Mercer Holdings’ leveraged debt,” Rebecca said. “Your board has been notified. Your accounts are frozen. The SEC has begun a forensic audit. And your staff has signed sworn statements about your treatment of your wife.”
Margaret staggered back.
“No,” she whispered. “We are the Mercers. We are untouchable.”
My father turned to her.
“You were.”
Nathaniel pointed at me, shaking.
“You set me up! You trapped me!”
A paramedic gently supported my elbow. I stood as tall as I could, both hands on my stomach.
“No, Nathaniel,” I said. “I didn’t trap you. I survived you.”
Outside, red and blue police lights flashed across the walls. Sirens filled the driveway.
For the first time, Nathaniel Mercer looked afraid.
The arrest happened in the same foyer where, one year earlier, he had forced me to kneel on the marble and apologize for embarrassing him at dinner.
Two police officers entered and cuffed him.
Margaret screamed, threw her wine glass to the floor, and lunged toward my father, accusing him of framing her son. One security guard stopped her easily.
As officers dragged Nathaniel away, he twisted back toward me.
