“Ms. Winters is already waiting in the conference room,” Jennifer informed her as the elevator doors opened to reveal a reception area that could have graced the pages of an architectural magazine. “May I offer you coffee or water before the meeting begins?”
“Water would be fine, thank you.”
Morgan followed the assistant down a corridor lined with tasteful artwork—original pieces, she noted, not reproductions. Everything about this space projected power, success, control. The very things Archer Sullivan had wielded so effortlessly in every aspect of his life, including their relationship.
The thought sent a fresh wave of anger through her. She channeled it into reinforcing her resolve.
The conference room was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering panoramic views of the city. Alexandra Winters rose from her seat at the oval table as Morgan entered, her expression professionally neutral but her eyes conveying silent support.
“Morgan, good morning,” Alexandra greeted her. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” Morgan replied automatically. “Ready to get this resolved.”
Alexandra nodded, gesturing to the chair beside her. “We should have a few minutes before everyone arrives. The agenda has shifted somewhat from what we initially discussed.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Shifted how?”
“Mr. Sullivan has requested a more comprehensive review of Vertex’s financial improprieties. It seems the investigation has uncovered... complications.”
Before Morgan could press for details, the door opened again. A woman Morgan recognized from online photos as Victoria Barrett, Sullivan Enterprises’ head legal counsel, entered with several assistants trailing behind her. They arranged documents with practiced efficiency, speaking in low tones that didn’t quite reach Morgan’s ears.
With each new arrival, Morgan’s tension ratcheted higher. She noticed security personnel positioned discreetly near the doors—not obvious unless you were looking for them, but definitely present. Why would a financial meeting require security? With everything she’d shared, they couldn’t possibly think she was behind any of this... right?
At precisely 10:00 AM, the energy in the room shifted perceptibly. Morgan felt his presence before she saw him—a familiar sensation that sent an unwelcome flutter through her chest despite everything.
Archer Sullivan entered the conference room with the confident stride of a man accustomed to commanding attention. His tailored suit fit his athletic frame perfectly, highlighting the strength she had felt beneath her fingertips in the darkness. His hair was styled impeccably, the same dark waves she had clutched in moments of passion, she looked away before she could see his face.
Morgan fixed her gaze on the notebook before her, refusing to meet his eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how his presence affected her.
“Good morning, everyone,” Archer’s voice—the same voice that had whispered intimate words against her skin—now addressed the room with professional authority. “Thank you for joining us on short notice. Before we begin, I’d like to make it clear that the purpose of this meeting has evolved based on new information.”
Morgan risked a glance up, careful to focus on his hands rather than his face. Those hands—she knew their touch, their strength, their gentleness. Now they gestured with corporate precision as he continued.
“Ms. Reeves,” he addressed her directly, causing her to jolt with his attention. “I want to thank you for bringing certain financial irregularities at Vertex Creative to our attention. Your cooperation has been instrumental in uncovering a situation more complex than initially suspected.”
She nodded stiffly, still avoiding his direct gaze. “I’m simply interested in clearing my name, Mr. Sullivan.”
The formal address felt strange on her tongue after whispering his first name in moments of intimacy. His barely perceptible flinch suggested he felt the dissonance too.
“Of course,” he acknowledged. “Ms. Barrett will outline what our investigation has uncovered.”
Victoria Barrett took over seamlessly, presenting a detailed analysis of financial misconduct at Vertex Creative. With clinical precision, she established that Richard Jenkins had indeed manipulated accounts and falsified documents—but the pattern suggested he wasn’t acting alone.
“Our forensic accounting team has identified a second set of transactions,” Victoria explained, displaying complex financial charts on the room’s screens. “These follow a different methodology, more sophisticated than Jenkins’ work. They appear designed to implicate Ms. Reeves and Richard Jenkins while concealing the true beneficiary.”
Morgan frowned, confusion momentarily overriding her emotional guard. “I don’t understand. If Richard wasn’t working alone, who was directing him?”
“That’s where things get interesting,” Archer interjected, his tone shifting subtly. “We’ve uncovered connections between Vertex Creative and Meridian Investment Group.”
Morgan sat up straighter, heart thudding. Meridian. Jason’s firm. The name had been circling her mind and she’d gone digging on her own—LinkedIn searches, corporate registries, tax filings—but nothing concrete had surfaced. Just a few overlapping names and company ties.
Until now.
“Meridian is a subsidiary of Centaur Holdings,” Archer continued, “which is partially owned by Sullivan Enterprises.”
A tight breath left her lungs. She wasn’t crazy. She had seen the threads. And now someone else—someone with resources and reach—was seeing them too.
The door opened, interrupting his explanation. Richard Jenkins entered, escorted by what were unmistakably security personnel. He looked disheveled, his usually immaculate appearance marred by the pallor of stress and lack of sleep.
