Chapter 5 - The Financial Guillotine"Liquidation?" Harrison Thorne screamed, grabbing Spencer by the lapels of his expensive bespoke suit and shaking him violently. "You incompetent fool! You told me Conway Enterprises was financially bulletproof! You said your wife came from nothing and your expansion was fully backed!"
"Harrison, wait—let me explain—" Spencer choked out, swatting desperately at Thorne’s hands while cold sweat beaded across his forehead. "It's a misunderstanding! Mr. Harrell, sir, please! This is a family matter! Phoebe, darling, tell your father it's a mistake—we can talk about this at home!"
"Home?" I repeated, tilting my head with a cold, mocking smile. "Which home, Spencer? The Shaker Heights mansion? Because as of five minutes ago, the deed to that property was transferred into the Harrell Family Foundation. You and your little roommate are going to need to find a new place to stay by sunrise."
Paisley let out a piercing shriek of absolute fury. "You can't do this to us! You're just a vindictive, bitter little housewife! Spencer, do something! Hit her! Tell them!"
Before Paisley could finish her hysterical outburst, two private security guards from Harrell Global stepped out from the shadows of the doorway, their massive shoulders blocking any escape route.
Raymond Harrell finally turned his gaze toward Spencer. The billionaire’s eyes were cold, dead, and utterly devoid of mercy.
"When you married my daughter," Raymond said, his voice dropping into a register that made every CEO in the room hold their breath, "I instructed my legal team to observe from a distance, giving you three years to prove yourself worthy of her loyalty. You didn't just fail, Conway. You abused her, humiliated her, and treated her like trash in her own home."
Raymond raised his ebony cane, tapping the marble floor once.
Clack.
"Marcus, execute the remaining warrants," my father commanded.
"Right away, Mr. Harrell," Marcus Vance replied crisply, pulling out a second set of documents. "Furthermore, federal tax evasion and corporate embezzlement audits have been formally filed with the Southern District of Ohio regarding Conway Enterprises’ offshore shell accounts in the Caymans. Federal marshals are currently securing Mr. Conway's corporate offices as we speak."
The room spun around Spencer. The ambitious, untouchable tech-and-real-estate titan who had strutted into the ballroom thirty minutes ago as the guest of honor was now legally, financially, and socially obliterated.
Several prominent investors who had been laughing at Spencer earlier in the evening began backing away frantically, desperate to distance themselves from the sinking ship before the federal agents arrived.
Paisley realized her meal ticket had just expired. She glared at Spencer with pure venom, shoved him hard against a pillar, and screamed, "You lied to me! You said you were a billionaire! I'm not going down with a bankrupt loser!"
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She turned on her heel, hitching up her champagne-silk skirt, and sprinted blindly toward the exit, completely ignoring the stares of the entire ballroom.
Spencer didn't even chase her. He sank slowly to his knees on the polished marble floor, staring blankly at the shattered glass of champagne surrounding his shoes, his bespoke suit ruined, his empire reduced to a pile of federal subpoena notices.
