Chapter 3
“Then why are they registered to addresses connected to you?”Her face lost color.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I said I don’t know.”
This fear was different.
Not fear of losing her job.
It was the fear of realizing the ground beneath you had disappeared.
She whispered, “He told me those were reimbursement entities.”
“Who?”
She glanced toward the door.
“President Shiao.”
My husband.
Then she said, “You think I’m his mistress.”
I said nothing.
“I’m not.”
“The watch says otherwise.”
Her face twisted.
“You really don’t know.”
“Know what?”
She opened her mouth.
The office door swung open.
Shiaoza walked in.
“Jang. Don’t.”
She froze.
I looked between them.
“What exactly am I not supposed to know?”
Neither answered.
So I called security.
Shiaoza laughed. “You’re having me removed from my own office?”
“My office. The board was clear.”
His expression hardened.
The husband vanished.
What remained was the man who had controlled this building while I was overseas.
“You have no idea what you’re walking into.”
“Then stop standing in my way.”
Security escorted him out.
Jang remained motionless.
Finally, she whispered, “He’s my brother.”
I stared at her.
“Half-brother.”
Eleanor had given birth to a daughter at nineteen, long before marrying into the Shiao family. The child had been raised by relatives overseas, and the truth buried to protect reputations.
Jang Chin Tong was that daughter.
Shiaoza had discovered her six years earlier and quietly brought her into the company.
That explained the affection.
The nickname.
Perhaps even the watch.
But not the money.
“Does Eleanor know you work here?”
Jang shook her head.
“Does she know he found you?”
Another shake.
I leaned back.
“Then why would he hide you from your own mother?”
Jang’s expression shifted.
She had never asked herself that.
At two o’clock, the board called an emergency meeting.
Shiaoza arrived with two attorneys.
He was already speaking when I entered.
“My wife is emotionally compromised,” he told the directors. “She has turned a personal misunderstanding into an unauthorized investigation.”
I took the chair at the head of the table.
Chairman Martin Hale said, “The CEO has authority to initiate an internal audit.”
Shiaoza smiled.
“Not if the CEO herself is implicated.”
A folder slid toward me.
Inside were wire approvals, invoices, and electronic authorizations.
Each carried my name.
My signature.
My executive credentials.
The transactions totaled $41.7 million.
Shiaoza leaned back.
“That is why I opposed her appointment.”
I stared at him.
He had never opposed it.
When the board first discussed my appointment, he had congratulated me, poured champagne, and said, “Maybe this is finally our chance to work together.”
Now I understood.
“Those signatures are forged.”
“Digital approvals don’t lie,” his attorney said.
Then Shiaoza delivered the blow he had clearly prepared.
“The board should suspend her immediately and refer this to federal authorities.”
He looked genuinely saddened.
He had rehearsed this.
Possibly for years.
The conference-room door opened.
Eleanor Shiao entered.
At seventy-two, my mother-in-law moved slowly, never weakly. Behind her came General Counsel, a forensic auditor—and Jang.
Shiaoza stood.
“Mother?”
May you like
Eleanor ignored him.
Her gaze settled on Jang.
