Chapter 6
The interior of the sleek, black luxury SUV was a sanctuary of quiet leather and tinted windows. As soon as the heavy doors closed, shutting out the glaring lights of the Carter estate, Emily let out a long, shuddering breath. The adrenaline that had fueled her explosive confrontation was beginning to recede, leaving behind a cold, calculated clarity.
"Are you okay, Megan?" Emily asked softly, grabbing a package of wet wipes from the center console.
Megan sniffled, her fair, rosy cheeks still damp with tears. "My dress is cold, Mommy."
"I know, baby. We’re going to get you into warm pajamas the second we get to the penthouse," Emily promised, gently wiping the remaining cold broth and grease from the little girl’s floral dress. She kissed Megan’s forehead, then reached over to squeeze Olivia’s hand.
Emily pulled her smartphone from her designer purse. The screen illuminated her beautiful, determined face in the dim cabin. She tapped a speed-dial number and brought the phone to her ear.
"Ms. Carter," a sharp, professional male voice answered on the second ring. It was Arthur Penhaligon, her lead financial manager and personal attorney.
"Arthur, it's Emily. I need you to execute the contingency protocols immediately," Emily commanded, her voice steady and completely devoid of emotion.
"All of them, ma'am?" Arthur asked, a hint of surprise in his crisp American accent. "That will effectively liquidate the Carter family's operational liquidity."
"Every single one," Emily confirmed. "I want the joint accounts frozen. I want the credit cards issued in Michael, Jessica, and David’s names canceled due to suspected fraudulent activity. I want the deed to the main estate transferred to the holding company by dawn, and I want eviction notices drafted."
"Understood," Arthur said, the sound of rapid typing echoing over the line. "What about Mr. Carter's access to the corporate building?"
"Revoke his keycard. In fact, revoke his entire department," Emily instructed, her eyes narrowing as she watched the city lights blur past the window. "He was a vanity hire anyway. Sever his contract for gross misconduct. I will not have my company funding a man who thinks my daughters are meant to eat food off the floor."
"Consider it done, Emily," Arthur replied smoothly. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes," Emily said, her voice dropping an octave into a tone of absolute, terrifying resolve. "Hire a private security detail. Four men, armed, top tier. I want them stationed at my penthouse by the time my car arrives. Michael is a coward, but a cornered coward can be dangerous. I will not take any chances with my girls."
"The detail will be waiting in the lobby," Arthur promised.
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Emily ended the call. She looked down at her two young daughters, who were already beginning to doze off in the quiet comfort of the vehicle. The soft, natural streetlights washed over their fair, innocent faces. Emily gently stroked Olivia's hair, her jaw setting into a hard, unbreakable line.
Michael thought she was just a pretty bank account. He thought he could break her spirit with public humiliation. Tomorrow morning, he was going to wake up and realize that he had brought a knife to a nuclear war.
