Chapter 11 - The Secret Meetings
While Evan sat in his holding cell stewing over his ruined life, his defense attorney was quietly attempting to broker a back-channel plea bargain with Daniel Cho. They knew the evidence—ranging from the Cayman Island shell company ledgers to the stolen proprietary pricing models forwarded to Apex Logistics—was an airtight federal case carrying a potential fifteen-year sentence.
Daniel invited Emily and me into his conference room on Wednesday afternoon to review the defense’s desperation offer.
“Mr. Miller, representing Evan, sent over a settlement proposal this morning,” Daniel said, spreading a stapled document across the polished mahogany table. “He’s offering to sign an immediate, uncontested divorce waiver, relinquish all claims to Hartwell Dining Group subsidiaries, and issue a public apology admitting to financial misconduct—if we agree to drop the referral for criminal wire fraud.”
Emily picked up the document, scanning the legal jargon with cold, clinical detachment. For a woman who had been trembling at a kitchen sink four days ago, her transformation into a sharp, decisive executive was complete.
“Drop the wire fraud charges?” Emily raised an eyebrow, looking up at Daniel. “So he can walk away with a clean record and start scamming some other family next year?”
“That’s essentially what the proposal asks for,” Daniel nodded. “Our counterargument is that the wire fraud is a federal matter handled by the DOJ, meaning the Hartwell Trust doesn't technically have the power to ‘drop’ it unilaterally—though our cooperation as primary victims certainly carries weight with the federal prosecutor.”
“Then we don’t cooperate with the prosecutor’s office on leniency,” Emily said firmly, sliding the document back across the table. “Tell Mr. Miller that my signature on the divorce waiver is available, but the criminal charges stay right where they are. If Evan wants to play corporate spy, he can practice his executive skills in a federal jumpsuit.”
Daniel smiled, a look of profound professional respect crossing his features. “Consider it communicated. Mr. Miller is going to have a stroke when he reads your counter-terms, but given the mountain of forensic evidence we handed the SEC yesterday, he doesn't have a leg to stand on.”
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“Good,” I added, folding my hands. “And make sure the divorce clause includes a permanent non-disparagement order and a strict geographic restriction preventing Evan from coming within fifty miles of Emily or my granddaughter ever again.”
“Already written into page four,” Daniel replied, tapping the document. “By Friday morning, this marriage will be legally dissolved, your assets fully protected, and Evan Vance will be officially classified as a distant, unpleasant memory.”
