Chapter 6: The House of Cards
Margaret Prescott did what she always did when backed into a corner: she threw money at the problem.
That evening, the grand dining room of the Prescott estate was lit by a two-hundred-thousand-dollar crystal chandelier. Seated around the mahogany table were the heavyweights of North Carolina's elite: a state senator, the chief executive of a major regional bank, and the district attorney. Margaret had summoned them under the guise of an "emergency strategy dinner."
She poured an expensive vintage Bordeaux, her hands remarkably steady despite the chaos consuming her empire.
"We are dealing with a minor smear campaign," Margaret lied smoothly, flashing her signature diamond-hard smile. "An aggrieved military mother with a flair for the dramatic is trying to extort us over Ethan’s perfectly amicable separation from her daughter. It’s a nuisance, frankly. But I need assurances from all of you that our ongoing projects—and your respective campaigns—remain insulated."
Senator Hughes shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Margaret, my office has been getting calls from federal regulators all day. Something about a RICO investigation? You assured me your political action committees were totally compliant."
"They are," Brandon smoothly intervened from the end of the table. "It's a baseless inquiry. We have our legal team filing motions to dismiss the federal injunctions first thing tomorrow."
The District Attorney, a man named Sterling who owed his entire career to Prescott funding, wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Ethan, your wife hasn't filed any official police reports regarding the... alleged domestic dispute. As long as she doesn't, there’s no criminal case. Just keep her quiet, and we can handle the rest."
Ethan sat silently, staring at his untouched steak. The phantom feeling of a laser dot on his chest still made him nauseous.
Suddenly, Senator Hughes’s cell phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and answered it. "Hughes... Wait, what? When? Are you absolutely certain?"
The color vanished from the Senator’s face. He slowly lowered the phone and looked at Margaret. It wasn't a look of allyship. It was the look of a man who had just realized he was standing on a landmine.
"Senator?" Margaret asked, her smile finally faltering. "What is it?"
"That was my chief of staff," Hughes said, his voice trembling. "The Washington Post just dropped a digital exclusive. Someone leaked fifty pages of your internal financial ledgers. They have emails, Margaret. Emails from Brandon authorizing payoffs to zoning officials. Emails from you moving millions into shell companies in the Cayman Islands to avoid federal taxes."
Margaret stood up so fast her chair tipped over, crashing onto the hardwood floor. "That's impossible! Those servers are isolated!"
The bank executive pulled out his own phone, scrolling frantically. "Good God. The stock exchange just halted trading on Prescott Enterprises. Margaret... the SEC is announcing a formal probe."
"I have to leave," the District Attorney said, jumping up from the table. "If the feds are involved, I cannot be seen in this house. I'm sorry, Margaret."
"Sterling, sit down!" Margaret commanded, her voice shrill and desperate. "We made you! You belong to us!"
"Not anymore," Sterling muttered, practically running for the front door. The Senator and the banker were right behind him, abandoning the sinking ship with dizzying speed.
Within sixty seconds, the grand dining room was empty, save for the three Prescotts. The silence was deafening.
Ethan buried his face in his hands, a pathetic sob escaping his throat. "She warned us. I told you, she warned us."
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Brandon stared blankly at his tablet, where the damning news article was rapidly going viral. "It's over. Mother... they have everything."
Margaret walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at her vast, manicured estate. The shadows of the trees seemed to stretch out like long, dark fingers reaching for her. For the first time in her life, the most powerful woman in Charlotte had absolutely no one to call.
