Chapter 135
Marcus’s POV
Marcus stood in front of his bathroom mirror adjusting his tie for the third time. His hands were shaking slightly, whether from lack of sleep or nerves, he wasn’t sure.
Today was the investor meeting. The biggest one of the year. Representatives from all their major shareholders would be there, along with the full board of directors. Marcus would be presenting quarterly earnings, five-year projections, and the strategic plan for expansion into new markets.
It should have been routine. He’d done presentations like this dozens of times.
But nothing about today felt routine.
His phone sat on the counter, silent. No good luck text from Elara. No message at all. They hadn’t properly spoken in two days, moving around each other like strangers in their own home.
Marcus had tried. He’d knocked on her door last night, tried to explain again why Aurora was still here. But Elara had just said she was tired and needed to sleep.
He’d stood outside her door for ten minutes, wanting to say something, anything, to fix this. But what could he say? That he was sorry? He’d already said that. That he loved her? She probably wouldn’t believe him right
now.
So he’d gone to his own room and lain awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
Marcus grabbed his briefcase and headed downstairs. The penthouse was quiet. Elara’s door was still closed. He thought about knocking, thought about trying one more time to talk to her before he left.
But he didn’t. He just left.
The drive to Thorne Dynamics headquarters felt too short. Marcus wasn’t ready for this. His mind was scattered, distracted by thoughts of Elara and Aurora and the mess his personal life had become
Focus, he told himself. You need to focus. This is important.
When he arrived at the office, Dante was already there waiting in the lobby.
“You look like hell,” Dante said by way of greeting.
“Thanks. That’s helpful.”
“I’m serious, Marcus. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“A few hours. I’m fine.”
Dante didn’t look convinced but he didn’t push it. “The investors are already gathering in the conference room. Board members started arriving twenty minutes ago. You ready for this?”
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Chapter 135
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
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They took the elevator up to the executive floor. Marcus could hear voices coming from the large conference room at the end of the hall. He took a deep breath and walked in.
The room was packed. Every seat at the massive table was filled, with additional chairs lined up along the walls for the overflow. Marcus recognized most of the faces. Thomas Bradford from the pension fund. Lisa Chen from the venture capital firm. Robert Morrison who’d been investing in Thorne Dynamics since Marcus’s grandfather was running the company.
And there, in the back corner, was Penelope. She smiled at him when their eyes met, a small pleasant smile that somehow made Marcus’s skin crawl.
What was she doing here? She wasn’t a major shareholder. Her and Marcus’s father’s combined stake was only 30%, and they usually sent a proxy to these meetings.
But here she was, dressed impeccably in a burgundy suit, watching him with those calculating eyes.
Marcus pushed the thought aside and moved to the front of the room where his presentation was already loaded on the screen.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said, his voice steady despite the nerves. “Thank you all for being here. I know everyone’s time is valuable, so let’s get started.”
He clicked to the first slide. Company overview. Revenue trends. Market position. All standard information, all things they’d seen before.
The room was quiet, everyone paying attention. So far so good.
Marcus moved to the next slide. Quarterly earnings breakdown.
He glanced at the numbers and felt his stomach drop.
Something was wrong.
The revenue figure showed $892 million. But that wasn’t right. Marcus had reviewed these reports a dozen times. The revenue for the quarter was $847 million.
He clicked back to the previous slide, then forward again. The number stayed the same.
A typo, maybe. A last-minute revision he hadn’t been told about.
Marcus pushed forward. “As you can see, revenue for the third quarter came in at-” he hesitated, “eight hundred ninety-two million, which represents a fourteen percent increase over the previous quarter.”
“Excuse me,” a voice called from the table. It was Lisa Chen. “Can you break down that revenue by department? Those numbers seem unusually high.”
“Of course.” Marcus clicked to the next slide.
And immediately wished he hadn’t.
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The departmental breakdown didn’t match. When he added up all the individual department revenues, they totaled $862 million. Not $892 million. There was a thirty million dollar discrepancy.
What the hell was going on?
“There appears to be an error in the presentation,” Marcus said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Let me pull up the correct files-”
“An error?” Robert Morrison leaned forward. “Or a discrepancy you were hoping we wouldn’t notice?”
“No, this is definitely an error. These aren’t the numbers I approved-”
“Then whose numbers are they?” Lisa asked.
Marcus pulled out his phone and quickly texted his assistant. Send me the original presentation files. Now.
He looked back at the room. Everyone was staring at him. Waiting.
“I apologize for the confusion. Let me explain the revenue breakdown while we get the correct files loaded.” Marcus moved to the next slide, hoping it would be better.
It wasn’t.
The profit margins were listed as 23% in the summary but showed 18% in the detailed analysis. The growth projections referenced markets that Thorne Dynamics didn’t even operate in. There were charts that didn’t match their data, footnotes that referenced reports Marcus had never seen.
Every slide was wrong. Not just wrong. Deliberately altered to make him look either incompetent or dishonest.
“Mr. Thorne,” Thomas Bradford stood up. “Can you explain why your profit margins differ by five percentage points depending on which slide we’re looking at?”
“I can’t because these aren’t the reports I prepared. Someone has altered these files-”
“Altered them? Or are you just now realizing we’d actually check your math?” Lisa’s voice was sharp.
“No, I’m telling you, these are not the files I submitted. Someone has tampered with this presentation.”
Murmurs rippled through the room. Marcus could see doubt on every face. They didn’t believe him.
His phone buzzed. A message from his assistant: That IS the file you sent me last night at 11:47 PM. Timestamp in the system.
Marcus felt ice in his veins. He hadn’t sent anything last night at 11:47 PM. He’d been home, lying awake thinking about Elara.
Someone had used his credentials. Someone had deliberately sabotaged this presentation and made it look like he’d done it.
“Mr. Thorne,” Robert Morrison stood up now too. His voice was grave, disappointed. “I’ve known your family
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for forty years. Your grandfather was a man of integrity. Your father, God rest his soul, would be ashamed of what I’m seeing here.”
“Mr. Morrison, I swear to you, I did not create these reports-”
“Then who did? Because according to your own IT system, these files were last modified by you, from your computer, using your login credentials.”
Marcus looked around the room desperately. Dante was standing by the wall, his phone already out, probably trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Penelope was still in her corner, and if Marcus wasn’t mistaken, she looked satisfied.
This was her. It had to be. This was Penelope’s revenge for him stealing back the contract.
“I believe someone has hacked into my system,” Marcus said. “This is corporate sabotage.”
“Or it’s fraud,” Lisa said coldly. “And you’re scrambling to cover it up now that you’ve been caught.”
“I have not committed fraud!”
“Then explain the offshore accounts referenced in your emails!”
“What emails?” Marcus felt like he was drowning. “What are you talking about?”
Lisa pulled out her tablet and started reading. “Email from you to Gerald Chen in accounting, dated two weeks ago. Quote: ‘We need to move some numbers around before the investor meeting. Keep the offshore transfers quiet for now.’ End quote.”
Marcus’s blood ran cold. “I never sent that email. I’ve never asked anyone to hide transfers or move numbers around.”
“Your email address. Your login. Your computer.” Thomas Bradford was shaking his head. “Mr. Thorne, I think we need to suspend this meeting and call for an emergency board session.”
“No, please, just give me time to-”
“Time to what? Alter more documents? Hide more evidence?”
The room erupted in voices, everyone talking over each other. Accusations flying. Marcus’s carefully built reputation crumbling in real time.
Robert Morrison stood up and raised his hand for silence. The room gradually quieted down. He looked at Marcus with an expression of profound disappointment.
“Mr. Thorne,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I’m going to ask you a direct question, and I need a direct answer.”
Marcus nodded, his throat too tight to speak.
“Are you hiding losses from this board?”
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hapter 135
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