Chapter 10 - The Cell and the Void
At eight o’clock, Vicki descended into the subterranean holding facility beneath the city’s central precinct.
Camden was sitting on a concrete bench in an isolation cell. The bespoke Tom Ford suit was ruined, covered in dust, the jacket buttons torn off during processing. He had no tie, no shoelaces, and no watch. The hair that he had spent forty minutes styling that morning hung in greasy, matted strands across his forehead.
When the heavy iron gate clanged open, he didn't look up immediately. He stared at his stockinged feet, his breathing shallow.
“Did you bring the bail bond?” he croaked.
Vicki stopped outside the cell bars, keeping her distance. “There is no bail, Camden. The judge deemed you an extreme flight risk after Arthur provided proof of your private jet reservation to the Caymans scheduled for tonight at midnight.”
Camden slowly lifted his head. His eyes were hollow, bloodshot, surrounded by dark purple rings of exhaustion and defeat.
“You destroyed everything,” he whispered. “Tatum Meridian was worth three billion dollars yesterday. Our stock… our valuation will collapse by morning.”
“Tatum Meridian’s stock didn't collapse,” Vicki replied, her tone even and cool. “At five o’clock, the board announced that I have assumed the role of Executive Chairwoman and Rachel Zander has been confirmed as permanent CEO. Vance Heritage injected seventy-five million dollars in liquid capital to retire Blackthorne’s senior debt. By the closing bell, our private trading value had jumped fourteen percent.”
Camden let out a broken, wheezing laugh. “Rachel? You gave the company to Rachel? She’s an operations bureaucrat! She doesn't have the vision! I built that company, Vicki! I was the genius!”
Vicki stepped closer to the bars, looking down at the man she had loved for half a decade.
“You didn't build anything, Camden. You were an actor. You were the polished hood ornament on an engine built by engineers you never bothered to learn the names of. My family provided the capital. Rachel provided the operational discipline. The developers wrote the code. You… you simply walked into ballrooms, shook hands, drank champagne, and took the credit.”
Camden gripped the bars with white knuckles. “I loved you!” he screamed, spit flying from his lips. “I gave you my name!”
Vicki smiled—a small, sad, devastating smile.
“Tomorrow morning, the court will receive my petition for divorce and an emergency order restoring my maiden name. The company will no longer be called Tatum Meridian. As of six o'clock, the rebranding to Vance Meridian Systems is already registered with the Secretary of State.”
Camden’s hands slipped from the cold iron bars. He slumped back against the concrete wall, looking at the ceiling, realization finally crashing down on him like an avalanche.
“My name…” he muttered, his voice fading to a rasp. “You took my name off the building.”
“You kicked me in front of five hundred people, Camden,” Vicki said, her hand resting gently on her mended side. “You thought I was dead weight. But when an airplane is falling, it isn't the wings that get thrown out to save the flight.”
She turned away from the cell.
May you like
“Goodbye, Camden. I hope the shoes they give you in prison fit better than the ones you wore last night.”
***
