Chapter 8: The Board Room
Patricia Osei had the kind of stillness that made people confess things they hadn't planned to say.
She was sixty-three, had served on four major corporate boards, and when I sat across from her in the Moretti Global conference room at seven-thirty the following morning, she looked at the folder Diane had prepared and read every page without speaking.
When she finished, she closed the folder.
"How long have you had the emails?" she asked.
"Since yesterday morning."
"And Carla Voss's statement?"
"Signed and notarized as of last night."
She looked at me steadily.
"You understand that what's in here, if accurate, constitutes securities fraud, breach of fiduciary duty, and tortious interference.
Among other things."
"I do."
"And you're bringing this to me rather than going directly to the SEC because — "
"Because I want the board to act first.
I want this handled from inside.
If it goes to regulators before the board has a chance to respond, the story becomes the company.
Shareholders suffer.
Employees suffer.
People who had nothing to do with what Marcus Hale did." I paused.
"He doesn't deserve to take all of that down with him."
Patricia looked at the folder again.
"You're protecting Moretti Global," she said.
"Even now."
"I'm protecting the people who work there.
There's a difference."
She nodded slowly.
"The board convenes in ninety minutes.
Hale will be present.
He doesn't know about Voss's statement."
"I know."
"He'll fight."
"Let him."
She stood.
Extended her hand.
I shook it.
"I'll need you available by phone during the session," she said.
"And your attorney on standby."
"We'll be in the lobby."
Diane and I sat in the Moretti Global lobby for two hours and eleven minutes.
I drank bad coffee.
Diane reviewed documents on her tablet.
Neither of us said much.
At ten-forty, Luca came through the glass doors from the elevator bank.
He walked directly to us.
"It's done," he said.
Diane looked up.
"Define done."
"Hale was presented with Voss's statement and the email chain.
His attorney asked for a recess.
The board denied it." Luca sat down across from us.
He looked exhausted in the specific way of someone who has been carrying something heavy for a long time and has just set it down.
"He tried to claim the emails were fabricated.
Patricia asked him to explain the shell company filings.
He couldn't." A pause.
"He resigned.
Effective immediately.
The board is referring the full matter to the SEC and the U.S.
Attorney's office."
Diane made a note.
"His two allies on the board?" I asked.
"Both recused themselves once the evidence was presented.
One submitted his own resignation before the session ended."
I looked at my hands.
Six years.
Two children.
A letter in a locked drawer.
A photograph of my brother's hand.
All of it traced back to one man's greed and another man's willingness to believe the worst of the woman who had loved him.
"Luca," I said.
He looked at me.
"It's not enough," I said.
"Resignation isn't enough."
"No," he agreed.
"It isn't.
But it's the beginning of enough." He leaned forward, elbows on knees.
"The U.S.
Attorney's office will take it from here.
Diane knows their lead investigator."
"I do," Diane confirmed, not looking up from her tablet.
I stood.
Picked up my bag.
"I need to get the children from school," I said.
Luca stood too.
"Nia."
I waited.
"I'd like to tell them myself.
Who I am." He held my gaze.
"When you're ready.
On your terms.
Completely."
I thought about Maya in the kitchen doorway.
*He had sad eyes.
Can they fix it?*
"Not today," I said.
"I know."
"But I'll think about it."
He nodded.
That was all.
I walked out through the glass doors into a cold Chicago afternoon, Diane beside me, and for the first time in six years the weight behind my sternum was something I could almost name.
Not gone.
May you like
But different.
Lighter by exactly the amount of truth that had finally been spoken out loud.
