Chapter 9 - I HAD ONE CHANCE TO SAVE THE EMPIREThe following forty-eight hours were the longest of my life.
Prescott Global's interim chief executive, a respected operations executive named Helen Foster, began working with the board, lenders, and major customers to stabilize the business.
Helen had spent twenty-two years in logistics.
She understood the warehouses.
The drivers.
The customers.
She understood something Aaron had forgotten.
A transportation company wasn't built from conference rooms and magazine covers.
It was built by people who got up at four in the morning to keep promises made to strangers.
I met Helen at Northstar on Monday morning.
She arrived carrying a battered laptop bag and a folder stuffed with handwritten notes.
"No time for formalities," she said.
I liked her immediately.
Margaret introduced us.
Helen opened her folder.
"We have three problems."
"Go ahead."
"First, liquidity. Second, customer confidence. Third, employee morale."
She projected a cash-flow forecast onto the screen.
"The company has enough available cash for immediate payroll under the current plan, but we need to stabilize collections and preserve lender support."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"What about the canceled Atlantic Meridian contract?"
Helen nodded.
"We're reviewing the termination. Their procurement director says they received a report alleging we can't fulfill deliveries."
"From Victor?" I asked.
"We don't know the ultimate source yet."
"Can we reassure them?"
"I've scheduled a meeting."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
I looked at her.
"I'd like to attend."
Helen hesitated.
"Claire, this needs to be handled by the management team."
"Agreed. I'll be there as a representative of Northstar, not to interfere with operations."
She considered it.
Then nodded.
"Fine."
Next came the financing.
Northstar's investment committee had approved negotiations over temporary support, provided the funding was used for legitimate operational needs and accompanied by safeguards.
The other lenders would also need to participate.
I had no intention of giving Aaron a blank check.
But I wasn't going to stand aside while his mistakes destroyed a company that might still be saved.
Margaret turned toward me.
"Are you comfortable proceeding?"
I looked at the forecast.
"Yes, subject to the committee's terms and independent review."
She nodded.
Then Helen handed me another document.
It was a letter from a group of employees.
More than two hundred signatures.
My heart sank.
"What is it?"
"They're asking whether the company is closing."
I unfolded the pages.
Some employees had been with Prescott Global for twenty years.
Others had joined only months earlier.
A warehouse supervisor wrote that his wife had recently lost her job.
A payroll coordinator worried about losing health insurance for her family.
A driver wrote that he'd just bought a house.
None asked about Aaron.
None asked about Jasmine.
They wanted to know whether they would still have work next month.
I pressed my lips together.
"Have we communicated with them?"
Helen nodded.
"We've told them operations are continuing and that we're reviewing the financial situation. I'm not promising anything we can't guarantee."
"Good."
I looked at the signatures.
"Can we arrange a company-wide meeting?"
"Yes."
"Then let's tell them what we can, honestly."
That afternoon, Helen stood before employees in the headquarters auditorium.
Hundreds more joined remotely.
I sat beside Margaret.
Helen explained that Prescott Global was facing serious financial challenges but remained operational.
She confirmed that an independent investigation was underway.
She announced that the board had withdrawn the proposed executive retention package and suspended the unapproved mass-layoff plan pending a genuine operational review.
She did not promise that every position would be safe forever.
She promised transparency.
Then she invited me onto the stage.
I hadn't planned to speak.
But when I looked at the employees, I understood why my mother had insisted on showing up during difficult times.
I stepped to the microphone.
"My name is Claire Reed."
A murmur passed through the room.
"Some of you know me as Claire Prescott."
A few people smiled awkwardly.
"I know many of you saw the message I sent last week."
Silence.
"My marriage is a private matter, and I regret that my decision placed something deeply personal into your workplace."
I took a breath.
"But the financial problems facing this company are not a private matter."
I looked around.
"They affect your families. Your careers. Your futures."
A woman in the second row nodded.
I continued.
"Northstar is working with Prescott Global's board and lenders to evaluate a path forward. We're investigating the questionable transactions and seeking recovery of company funds."
I paused.
"I won't stand here and promise that every decision ahead will be easy. But I can promise that the people doing the work will not be treated as invisible."
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then a man near the back began clapping.
Others joined.
Soon, the auditorium filled with applause.
I didn't feel victorious.
I felt responsible.
After the meeting, an older employee approached me.
His name tag read ROBERT HAYES.
He wore a faded company polo shirt.
"Mrs. Reed?"
"Claire is fine."
He held out his hand.
"I've been with Prescott Global for eighteen years."
"Thank you for staying."
He shook his head.
"No. Thank you for showing up."
I swallowed.
Then he added, "Your mother visited our first warehouse once."
I stared at him.
"You met her?"
"Yes. She was evaluating the investment before the company expanded."
I smiled faintly.
"What did she say?"
Robert laughed.
"She asked why the break room didn't have enough chairs."
My eyes stung.
That sounded exactly like her.
He looked serious again.
"She made sure we got them."
I squeezed his hand.
"Then we'd better make sure they're still there."
The following morning, Helen and I met with Atlantic Meridian Retail.
Its chief executive, David Brooks, was skeptical.
"I've heard your company may not survive the quarter."
Helen answered calmly.
"We're facing challenges, but our operations remain active. We're here to provide verified information about capacity, service performance, and our financing plan."
David turned toward me.
"And Northstar?"
"We're evaluating support alongside the other lenders. We can provide the agreed financial assurances once they're finalized."
He leaned back.
"Why should I believe any of you?"
It was a fair question.
Helen opened a detailed operational report.
Delivery completion rates.
Warehouse capacity.
Customer-service records.
Contingency plans.
For forty minutes, she explained how Prescott Global could continue fulfilling its obligations.
David listened.
Then asked a question.
"What about Aaron?"
Helen answered.
"He's on administrative leave. Independent leadership is in place."
David looked at me.
"Is he coming back?"
"That's a decision for the board after the investigation," I said.
David nodded.
Then he closed the folder.
"I don't like surprises."
"Neither do I," Helen replied.
He almost smiled.
"I'll consider a conditional renewal."
It wasn't a victory yet.
But it was a chance.
By that afternoon, two other major customers had agreed to continue their contracts while reviewing updated service assurances.
The financing negotiations progressed.
The banks confirmed that the seventy-five-million-dollar payment had been stopped.
And counsel reported that a substantial portion of the earlier forty-eight-million-dollar transfer had been identified in accounts potentially subject to recovery proceedings.
For the first time, Prescott Global had a plausible path toward survival.
Then Victor Lang made his move.
At 4:17 p.m., a financial news outlet published a story alleging that Northstar Harbor Capital had concealed conflicts of interest involving its controlling shareholder's marriage to Prescott Global's CEO.
The article included accurate details mixed with claims that were disputed.
It questioned whether Northstar had provided financing on proper terms.
It suggested I'd secretly manipulated the business.
It described my Slack message as evidence of personal retaliation.
Within minutes, reporters began calling.
Northstar's communications team requested comment from the outlet and prepared a factual response supported by the investment records.
The financing decision had been reviewed through the firm's established processes.
Relevant relationships had been disclosed where required.
Independent professionals had evaluated the investment.
But the public narrative was shifting.
Victor had discovered something dangerous.
He didn't need to prove I was corrupt.
He only needed to make people wonder.
My phone rang.
It was Sarah.
"Claire, we need to talk."
"About the article?"
"About the divorce."
My stomach tightened.
"What now?"
"Aaron's attorney just sent revised settlement documents."
I closed my eyes.
"More threats?"
"No."
Sarah paused.
"Claire, Aaron has agreed to withdraw his disputed financial claims and cooperate in identifying the questionable transactions."
I exhaled.
"Good."
"There's something else."
"What?"
"He included a sworn statement about Victor, Jasmine, and Nathan."
I went still.
"What does it say?"
"It describes their involvement in the financing scheme. It also acknowledges his own role in approving the forty-eight-million-dollar payment and failing to investigate the forged document."
I sat down.
"Why would he do that?"
"His attorney says he wants to correct the record."
I stared through the window.
Aaron had finally told the truth.
But that truth could carry serious consequences for him.
Sarah continued.
"His statement gives investigators leads they didn't previously have."
"Such as?"
"An offshore account associated with one of Victor's companies."
My heart pounded.
"How much money?"
"We don't know."
"Then why is it important?"
"Because Aaron claims Victor told him the account would receive the proceeds of the restructuring."
I leaned forward.
"And?"
Sarah's voice became quiet.
"He says Victor planned to acquire control of Prescott Global through a distressed restructuring, then use the company to pursue a much larger transaction involving Northstar."
I closed my eyes.
"What transaction?"
"He wanted to buy a controlling interest in Northstar's management company from the Reed Family Trust."
I almost laughed.
"He couldn't force me to sell."
"No," Sarah replied.
"But according to Aaron, Victor planned to use the disputed power of attorney and a fabricated consent package to persuade third parties that he had your authorization."
I gripped the edge of the desk.
All the pieces suddenly fit.
The missing case.
The forged signature.
The financial crisis.
The attempt to force a default.
The plan had depended on documents being accepted without anyone verifying my authority.
That was why Victor had wanted me frightened.
That was why he had sent the threatening message.
That was why he had pushed Aaron to demand I surrender my claims in the divorce.
He wanted my signature.
Or something that looked enough like it.
At 5:06 p.m., Daniel called.
"Claire, the company's lawyers have obtained a temporary court order preserving specified assets related to the disputed transfers."
"Good."
"There's another development."
"What?"
"Nathan's attorney contacted investigators."
My heart began pounding.
"Is he cooperating?"
"He's offered information in exchange for consideration, but no agreement has been reached."
"What information?"
Daniel hesitated.
"He says Victor has been falsifying financial records for years."
I stared at the wall.
"And the document?"
"According to Nathan, Victor directed him to obtain your mother's trust records and commission a forged power of attorney."
My eyes closed.
"Can he prove it?"
"He claims he preserved messages."
I exhaled.
"Then let the investigators verify them."
"Agreed."
There was a pause.
Then Daniel said, "Claire, you should turn on the television."
I reached for the remote.
A financial news anchor stood outside Prescott Global headquarters.
Behind her, two investigators entered the building carrying document cases.
The caption read:
PRESCOTT GLOBAL FINANCIAL PROBE EXPANDS AS AUTHORITIES REVIEW ALLEGED FRAUD
The anchor continued.
"Authorities have confirmed that investigators are examining financial transactions involving several outside advisory firms..."
I barely heard the rest.
Because my phone had begun ringing.
Aaron.
I answered.
"Claire."
His voice was shaking.
"What happened?"
"Victor knows I gave them the statement."
I stood.
"Where are you?"
"At my attorney's office."
"Stay there."
He inhaled sharply.
"Claire, I just received a message."
"What message?"
Aaron's voice broke.
May you like
"Victor says he's going to make sure neither of us walks away from this."
Then the line went dead.
