Chapter 8
I was right about Sophia. I just didn't expect how fast she'd move.
Two weeks after Nathan's visit, a story broke in three tabloids simultaneously. The headlines screamed:
**GRAVES HEIRESS STOLE COMPANY SECRETS DURING MARRIAGE**
**ELENA GRAVES: CORPORATE SPY OR SCORNED WIFE?**
**CARTER GROUP CLAIMS EX-WIFE USED MARRIAGE TO STEAL PROPRIETARY DATA**
The articles quoted "anonymous sources within Carter Group" claiming that my logistics algorithm was actually based on Carter Group's internal research—research I had allegedly stolen during my years as Nathan's wife.
It was clever. Not true, but clever.
If I had actually built my technology on Carter Group's data, it would invalidate my patents, destroy my licensing deal with Harrington, and potentially land me in court for years.
I read the articles over breakfast without appetite.
My phone rang. Alexander Reid.
"I saw the news," he said, his voice calm. "Do you need support?"
"I need 48 hours."
"You have them. I'll hold our partnership announcement until you give the word."
I appreciated that he didn't ask if the accusations were true.
I hung up and called Margaret. "Get me the complete access logs from Carter Group's R&D servers. Time period: January three years ago through last month."
"How would we obtain those?"
I smiled grimly. "Because I built their security system."
It was true. In the first year of my marriage, when I was still trying to be useful, still trying to earn Victoria's approval, Nathan had mentioned that Carter Group's IT infrastructure was outdated. I'd quietly redesigned their entire digital architecture—firewalls, encryption, data management.
They never knew it was me. Nathan told his board that he'd hired "an external consultant."
I still had administrative access. They had never thought to revoke it—because they never knew I had it in the first place.
Within six hours, I had everything.
Not just the proof that Carter Group had no logistics algorithm research predating my own—they'd never even explored AI optimization—but something far more damaging.
Internal emails between Nathan and Sophia. Financial transfers to offshore accounts. Fraudulent invoicing on three government contracts. Tax evasion spanning four fiscal years.
And one file that made my blood run cold: a memo from Sophia to an unknown recipient, dated one week before our divorce, outlining a plan to "neutralize E.G. permanently if financial approach fails."
I stared at that last line for a long time.
Then I picked up the phone.
"Margaret. Set up a press conference for tomorrow morning. And call Detective Morrison at the financial crimes unit."
"What should I tell him?"
"Tell him I have a delivery."
---
Two weeks after Nathan's visit, a story broke in three tabloids simultaneously. The headlines screamed:
**GRAVES HEIRESS STOLE COMPANY SECRETS DURING MARRIAGE**
**ELENA GRAVES: CORPORATE SPY OR SCORNED WIFE?**
**CARTER GROUP CLAIMS EX-WIFE USED MARRIAGE TO STEAL PROPRIETARY DATA**
The articles quoted "anonymous sources within Carter Group" claiming that my logistics algorithm was actually based on Carter Group's internal research—research I had allegedly stolen during my years as Nathan's wife.
It was clever. Not true, but clever.
If I had actually built my technology on Carter Group's data, it would invalidate my patents, destroy my licensing deal with Harrington, and potentially land me in court for years.
I read the articles over breakfast without appetite.
My phone rang. Alexander Reid.
"I saw the news," he said, his voice calm. "Do you need support?"
"I need 48 hours."
"You have them. I'll hold our partnership announcement until you give the word."
I appreciated that he didn't ask if the accusations were true.
I hung up and called Margaret. "Get me the complete access logs from Carter Group's R&D servers. Time period: January three years ago through last month."
"How would we obtain those?"
I smiled grimly. "Because I built their security system."
It was true. In the first year of my marriage, when I was still trying to be useful, still trying to earn Victoria's approval, Nathan had mentioned that Carter Group's IT infrastructure was outdated. I'd quietly redesigned their entire digital architecture—firewalls, encryption, data management.
They never knew it was me. Nathan told his board that he'd hired "an external consultant."
I still had administrative access. They had never thought to revoke it—because they never knew I had it in the first place.
Within six hours, I had everything.
Not just the proof that Carter Group had no logistics algorithm research predating my own—they'd never even explored AI optimization—but something far more damaging.
Internal emails between Nathan and Sophia. Financial transfers to offshore accounts. Fraudulent invoicing on three government contracts. Tax evasion spanning four fiscal years.
And one file that made my blood run cold: a memo from Sophia to an unknown recipient, dated one week before our divorce, outlining a plan to "neutralize E.G. permanently if financial approach fails."
I stared at that last line for a long time.
Then I picked up the phone.
"Margaret. Set up a press conference for tomorrow morning. And call Detective Morrison at the financial crimes unit."
"What should I tell him?"
"Tell him I have a delivery."
---