My Composure After Divorce Became His Greatest Torment Chapter 23
The handover was arranged in Boston.
I didn’t see Nathan up close.
Through the glass wall of the conference room, I could see him at the far end of the hall. He started to walk over several times, but each time, his own lawyer stopped him.
The independent notary verified the photos I had taken.
The creases on the envelope, the placement of the seal, the logo—everything matched perfectly.
The seal was intact.
By the time the Prescott Group’s chief counsel finished his examination, his expression was grim.
“Ms. Ward, if you had this file secured the entire time, why didn’t you return it sooner?”
My lawyer slid a printout across the table.
“My client notified Mr. Prescott’s assistant the day she found it. She also raised the matter directly with Mr. Prescott by phone.”
The call log was attached.
In that call, I had told Nathan about the file and how Caroline had answered his assistant’s phone and hung up on me.
He had heard it with his own ears.
The chief counsel fell silent.
I looked at him. “Your company failed to track a supposedly vital file for over a year. But now, only after I become a shareholder and Nathan moves in next door, I’m suddenly accused of leaking it.”
“Instead of investigating me, perhaps you should be investigating how the complainant knew about this file—and why she was so certain it was still in my possession.”
The conference room door was suddenly thrown open.
Caroline strode in, Nathan trailing behind her.
“Because she blackmailed him with it!”
She slapped a stack of papers on the table.
My two divorce agreements.
“After she found that file, her compensation suddenly changed from a small apartment to a Back Bay property, a trust, and company shares. Isn’t it obvious?”
The chief counsel picked up the documents, then looked at her.
“Where did you get these agreements?”
Caroline froze.
Nathan’s expression hardened.
Our divorce settlement was protected by a strict confidentiality clause. Other than our lawyers and Nathan himself, Caroline should never have seen them.
“Nathan gave them to me,” she said, grabbing his arm. “We were about to be married. Of course I had a right to know.”
Nathan didn’t look at her.
“I only ever showed you the prenup.”
Caroline’s fingers clenched.
“Then your assistant must have sent them. What difference does it make?”
The chief counsel slowly closed the folder.
“The difference is that this proves you were able to obtain confidential documents from an executive office.”
Caroline finally realized what she’d done.
Her face drained of color, but she forced herself to glare at me.
“That still doesn’t prove she didn’t trade the file for money.”
I didn’t have to say a word.
My lawyer produced the creation date of the first agreement, then the timestamp on Nathan’s written instruction to increase the settlement.
The Back Bay apartment and the trust were added to the second version of the agreement *before* I found the file.
The final addition of assets only happened after his team had mistakenly sent me the custody draft.
Every single dollar of compensation had a clear, documented reason.
None of them had anything to do with the file.
Caroline stared at the dates, all the blood gone from her lips.
This time, I didn’t have to expose her.
She had just hand-delivered proof of her own misconduct directly to the company’s legal department.