Chapter 2 - Five Minutes
The ambulance doors closed with my father sitting beside me.
He refused the front seat.
He refused Henry's suggestion that he follow in another car.
He refused everything except staying where I could see him.
The paramedic adjusted an IV line.
"Ms. Hayes, try not to move your left arm."
My father flinched at the name.
Hayes.
Matthew's name.
I noticed.
He noticed me noticing.
Neither of us commented.
My phone kept vibrating.
Six missed calls.
Then eight.
Then eleven.
All from Matthew.
My father glanced at the screen.
"Block him."
"I might need the messages."
Henry's voice came through the speakerphone from the car behind us.
"She's right."
My father exhaled slowly.
"Then silence him."
I turned the phone facedown.
For several blocks, the only sounds were the siren and the paramedic opening medical supplies.
Finally, I looked at my father.
"You said the company would notice."
He nodded.
"What exactly did you do?"
He stared out the rear window.
"I made four calls."
"To who?"
"Henry."
I waited.
"The managing partner at Sterling Capital."
Another pause.
"One independent director at NexusCore."
My stomach tightened.
"And?"
"The chairman of First Atlantic Bank."
I knew that name.
First Atlantic had extended NexusCore's revolving credit line three years earlier.
Matthew used to brag that he had personally charmed their credit committee.
"What did you tell them?"
"The truth."
"You didn't know the truth."
"I knew my daughter called me after midnight barely able to speak and told me her husband had attacked her."
His jaw tightened.
"That was enough to ask serious questions."
The paramedic pretended not to listen.
I looked down at my bandaged hand.
"Matthew will say I'm lying."
"He probably will."
"He'll say I fell."
"He may."
"He'll say I'm unstable."
My father's eyes snapped back to me.
"Then he will say it while doctors document your injuries, security photographs your apartment, and the police preserve the weapon."
I looked at him.
"Police?"
"They're already there."
My heart jumped.
"I didn't call them."
"I did."
His voice was steady.
"That decision may make you angry tomorrow."
I shook my head.
"No."
The word surprised both of us.
"No, I'm not angry."
For seven years, I had hidden everything.
The insults.
The disappearing money.
The lies.
The increasingly cruel way Matthew spoke to me when no one else was around.
Tonight had simply been the first time cruelty left marks nobody could explain away.
My father leaned closer.
"Clare, there is something else."
"What?"
"Sterling Capital's suspension triggered a notification requirement."
I tried to focus.
"For the bridge financing?"
"Yes."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning every bank participating in the Axion acquisition learned within minutes that a major lender had paused funding pending a governance review."
My eyes widened.
"That's why the board is calling him."
"Partly."
"What's the other part?"
My father's mouth became a thin line.
"The independent director I called requested an emergency audit of executive expenses."
My mind flashed to the Hamptons house.
Lauren's dinners.
The jewelry.
The flights Matthew claimed were for investors.
"Why would she agree to that so quickly?"
My father studied me.
"Because you're not the first person who has raised concerns."
The ambulance seemed to become quieter.
"What do you mean?"
"There have been questions about payments for months."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"You haven't been involved in management for nearly three years."
That was true.
Matthew had gradually pushed me out after our fourth anniversary.
First, he said I deserved a break.
Then he told the board I wanted to focus on charity work.
Eventually, my access badge simply stopped opening the executive floor.
I had accepted every explanation because acknowledging what he was doing would have forced me to admit what our marriage had become.
My phone vibrated again.
This time the message was different.
MATTHEW.
Whatever you told your father, fix it now.
I stared at the sentence.
Not Are you okay?
Not Where are you?
Not I'm sorry.
Fix it.
My father read my expression without seeing the screen.
"What did he say?"
I handed him the phone.
He read the message.
Then he gave it back.
His face became completely calm.
I remembered that calm.
Boardrooms feared it.
"Five minutes," he said.
"What?"
"That's how long it took him to stop worrying about what he did to you and start worrying about his company."
The ambulance turned sharply toward the hospital entrance.
May you like
My father squeezed my hand.
"Remember that when he starts begging."
