Chapter 5 - The Corporate Sabotage
I drove to my office building in a state of hyper-focused shock. Benedict hadn't just planned to rob me and my mother; he had engineered a devastating strike against my career to keep me paralyzed while he fled the country.
When I walked into the glass-walled conference room on the top floor, the atmosphere was suffocating. David sat at the head of the table, flanked by the head of Human Resources and a woman from the company’s legal department.
“Have a seat, Sabrina,” David said, his tone devoid of its usual warmth.
He pushed a printed email across the polished mahogany table.
I picked it up. It was an email sent from my secure corporate address to a competitor’s marketing director. Attached to the email were the confidential launch strategies, pricing models, and client lists for our upcoming flagship product.
Below the attachments was a message, written supposedly by me:
“As discussed, here is the full Q3 data dump. I expect the wire transfer to my Cayman account by tomorrow. Do not contact me on this server again.”
“I didn't send this,” I said, my voice shaking with absolute outrage. “This is a complete fabrication.”
“It was sent from your IP address at home, Sabrina,” the HR director said sharply. “At 2:00 AM last night. And this morning, your husband called our ethics hotline. He claimed he caught you selling company secrets because you’ve developed a severe underground gambling addiction.”
“A gambling addiction?” I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. “He’s projecting! My mother-in-law is the one running a failing—” I stopped myself. Ranting about Gertrude’s LLC wasn't going to prove my innocence.
“Sabrina, this is a federal offense,” the legal representative said. “If this data is compromised, we will have to terminate you immediately and pursue criminal charges.”
I closed my eyes, forcing down the panic. Benedict was a sociopath, but he wasn't a tech genius. If he sent the email from my home network, he had to have used my personal laptop.
“David,” I said, looking my boss directly in the eye. “I have been with this company for eight years. Have I ever given you a single reason to doubt my integrity?”
David hesitated, the stern lines around his mouth softening just a fraction. “No. You’ve been exemplary. Which is why this is so devastating.”
“My husband is attempting to extort me,” I said firmly, pulling the silver flash drive out of my purse and setting it on the table. “He is planning to flee to Costa Rica on Friday with his mistress and his mother. He stole my jewelry, forged my mother’s signature on a ninety-thousand-dollar auto loan, and now he is trying to destroy my career to ensure I don't have the resources to pursue him legally.”
The room went dead silent.
“I can prove it,” I continued. “Call the IT department. Have them run a diagnostic on the email’s metadata. Benedict is an administrative assistant; he doesn't know how to scrub a MAC address. He used a remote desktop protocol to access my home computer while I was out of the house. The logs will show the intrusion.”
David looked at the legal rep, who gave a slow nod.
“I’ll get the Chief Information Officer on it right now,” David said, standing up.
While we waited, I plugged the flash drive into David’s computer and showed them the email logs between Benedict and Gertrude, detailing the plot to keep me “busy fighting HR.”
Twenty minutes later, the CIO walked into the room.
“She’s right,” the CIO said, looking bewildered. “The email was triggered remotely via a third-party cloning software installed on her home network. The IP address that initiated the command belongs to a public Wi-Fi network at a restaurant in Del Mar.”
The same restaurant where Gertrude had her fake birthday dinner.
David let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Sabrina, I am so deeply sorry. We will involve our corporate attorneys to assist you in filing a police report against your husband.”
I felt a massive wave of relief wash over me, but it was violently interrupted by a notification pinging on my cell phone.
It was an automated alert from my primary bank.
ALERT: Wire transfer of $120,000 initiated from Joint Savings to External Account (Cayman Islands). Security protocol requires in-person signature validation within 2 hours.
Benedict was draining my life savings right now.
I grabbed my purse. “David, I have to go. He’s at the bank.”
“Go,” David said fiercely. “We’ve got your back here.”
I sprinted to the elevator, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had to physically reach the downtown branch before the manager approved the massive transfer.
As the elevator doors were closing, a hand shot out and stopped them.
A delivery courier stepped in, holding a small cardboard box with my name scrawled on it. “Delivery for Sabrina Hayes?”
I took the box, tearing the tape off with my fingernails.
May you like
Inside was a pristine white envelope. I ripped it open. It was a polaroid photograph of Benedict and his mistress, Evelyn, standing in front of my mother’s house. Evelyn was wearing my grandmother’s vintage silver locket.
Written in black marker across the bottom were the words: “Checkmate, wife.”
