“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.
I looked at him. “You didn’t ask.”
His eyes lowered.
That was when Arthur appeared beside us.
“The board is ready,” he said.
David straightened automatically, but the old confidence did not return.
I turned away first.
The private conference room had been prepared behind the ballroom, through a discreet hallway lined with framed photographs of past Apex launches. I had approved most of those projects from behind a screen, my name hidden in legal documents, my decisions filtered through Arthur and the board chair.
Inside, seven board members sat around a long table. Some looked unsettled. Others looked relieved. No one looked surprised enough.
That told me plenty.
Arthur closed the door after David entered.
I remained standing at the head of the table.
“Before we begin,” I said, “I want to make one thing clear. This is not a marital dispute. This is a governance matter.”
Board Chair Evelyn Park nodded. She was in her sixties, with silver hair pulled into a neat knot and a gaze sharp enough to cut through excuses.
“We understand,” she said. “The compliance report has been circulated.”
David’s head snapped toward her. “Compliance report?”
Evelyn slid a folder across the table.
He stared at it as if it had appeared from nowhere.
Arthur spoke next. “For the last eight months, an internal review has been examining several irregularities involving vendor recommendations, expense approvals, and hiring influence inside your division.”
David sat very still.
I watched his hands.
They were gripping the folder too tightly.
“This review began before tonight,” Arthur continued. “The incident in the ballroom only accelerated decisions already under consideration.”
David looked at me. “You investigated me?”
“No,” I said. “The company investigated your department.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It isn’t.”