Chapter 13 - The Full Fifteen SecondsMalcolm’s attorney placed the text message in front of him.
“Did you send this?”
Malcolm read it.
Keep everything under fifty. Sienna’s committee only sees the big stuff. Once Boston closes, we won’t need her money anymore.
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
His attorney exhaled.
“Why?”
“Bianca was complaining that Westbridge’s approval process was slowing purchases.”
“So you instructed her to evade the review threshold.”
“I told her to keep packages separate.”
“That is not what the message says.”
Malcolm rubbed his forehead.
“I was angry.”
“At whom?”
“Sienna.”
“That is becoming an expensive emotion.”
Malcolm glared.
His lawyer leaned forward.
“I need you to understand the position you are in. We can argue about whether each transaction was economically legitimate. We can argue about materiality. We can argue about whether the financing documents required disclosure at certain levels. But this message shows intent to avoid oversight.”
“I know.”
“And the line about not needing her money?”
“I was venting.”
“It supports Everline’s theory that you treated disclosure as an obstacle.”
Malcolm stood.
“Everyone in business complains about investors.”
“Not everyone structures transactions around avoiding their review.”
Malcolm walked to the window.
“Can I save Westbridge?”
“Maybe.”
“How?”
“Stop treating every problem as something you can overpower.”
Malcolm looked back.
“What does that mean?”
“Cooperate with the audit.”
“And let Sienna destroy me?”
“Everline approved your payroll this week.”
Malcolm said nothing.
“Your ex-wife is protecting your employees while you accuse her of sabotage.”
“She wants control.”
“Maybe.”
His attorney gathered the papers.
“But control and compliance are not the same thing.”
That afternoon the full fifteen seconds from the dining room was played privately in a mediation related to the temporary family orders.
Bianca attended by video.
Her attorney objected to characterizations.
Claire did not characterize.
She pressed play.
The edited clip Bianca had released began halfway through reality.
The full recording started earlier.
Nolan.
The bowl.
Bianca’s hand.
The crying.
Sienna entering.
The slap.
Bianca’s statement.
Malcolm arriving.
His slap.
Nolan crying behind him.
When it ended, no one spoke.
The mediator looked at Bianca.
“Did you release the shortened clip?”
Her attorney answered.
“My client is not admitting the source.”
Sienna almost smiled.
The mediator looked at Malcolm.
“Mr. Vale, have you watched the full recording before today?”
“Yes.”
“And you are still contesting supervised visitation?”
Malcolm looked toward Sienna.
“No.”
His lawyer turned.
That answer had not been expected.
Malcolm continued.
“I want a path toward unsupervised parenting time. But I am not asking for it immediately.”
Sienna stared at him.
The mediator nodded.
“That is a more realistic position.”
Bianca’s face hardened on the screen.
Afterward, Malcolm caught Sienna near the elevator.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“But I’m doing the therapy.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Your lawyer disclosed it in the proposed parenting plan.”
Malcolm nodded.
“I’ll keep doing it.”
“That’s between you and Nolan.”
“I want you to know.”
“Why?”
He had no answer.
Sienna stepped into the elevator.
Before the doors closed, Malcolm said:
“Bianca leaked the video.”
Sienna met his eyes.
“I assumed.”
“She admitted it to me.”
“Will you say that under oath?”
He hesitated.
Sienna nodded as if she had expected it.
The elevator doors began closing.
Malcolm put his hand between them.
“Yes.”
Sienna looked at him.
“Yes what?”
“I’ll say it.”
The doors reopened.
He lowered his voice.
“She thought she could force your investors to pressure you into restoring the money.”
“And you?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
The honesty surprised her.
Malcolm removed his hand.
“But it’s true.”
The elevator closed.
That night Jonah called Sienna with updated audit results.
“Larkspur’s total markup was one point seven-six million.”
“Okay.”
“Roughly one point one million may be commercially supportable based on actual procurement and design services.”
Sienna listened.
“And the rest?”
“Approximately six hundred sixty thousand is difficult to substantiate.”
“Personal expenses?”
“Some. Others lack underlying vendor support.”
“Meaning?”
“We have invoices from Larkspur to Westbridge but no corresponding subcontractor invoice, inventory record, or service documentation.”
“Fake?”
“Possibly unsupported. I’m not calling them fake yet.”
“Good.”
“There’s another issue.”
Sienna sighed.
“What?”
“Westbridge’s board minutes.”
“What about them?”
“Three meetings appear to contain conflict disclosures regarding Larkspur.”
“That’s good for Malcolm.”
“Yes.”
“Why do you sound worried?”
“Because the minutes were created six months after the meetings they supposedly document.”
Sienna went silent.
“Metadata?”
“Yes.”
“Who created them?”
“A Westbridge administrative account.”
“User?”
Jonah paused.
“Bianca.”
Sienna closed her eyes.
“So someone backfilled board records.”
“That is what it looks like.”
“Did Malcolm know?”
“We don’t know.”
“Find out.”
Jonah hesitated.
“Sienna, at what point do we refer this to authorities?”
“When counsel says the evidence warrants it.”
“This could be fraud.”
“It could.”
“And document fabrication.”
“Yes.”
Sienna’s voice became firm.
“We are investors, not prosecutors. Preserve. Audit. Report accurately.”
Jonah agreed.
After they disconnected, Sienna entered Nolan’s bedroom.
He was asleep holding the toy truck from the supervised visit.
Daddy’s truck.
Sienna sat beside him.
Malcolm had failed him.
Bianca had frightened him.
Sienna herself had turned violent in response.
Three adults had transformed a breakfast table into something a child was now afraid to remember.
She brushed his hair gently.
“No more adults making you carry their mistakes,” she whispered.
Her phone lit up.
Unknown number.
A photograph arrived.
A storage box.
Inside were old Westbridge files.
Then a message:
If you want to know when Malcolm and Bianca really began planning to move money, ask about Project Lantern.
Sienna stared at the words.
She had never heard of Project Lantern.
But Jonah had.
When she called him, his silence told her immediately.
“What is it?”
He answered carefully.
“An internal code name from three years ago.”
“For what?”
“A restructuring Malcolm proposed while you were still married.”
Sienna’s skin went cold.
“What kind of restructuring?”
May you like
Jonah answered:
“One that would have moved Westbridge’s most valuable future projects into a new company.”
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