His Ex Con CFO Stole Millions

Three years in prison for a ring my boyfriend stole. The day I got out, I went straight to an exclusive private club to meet my new boss.

Instead, I found my supposedly broke, food-delivery-driver boyfriend draped in designer labels, surrounded by bottles of Macallan 25, laughing like he owned the world.

"Hey, Austin, isn't today the day your little jailbird girlfriend gets released? Aren't you going to pick her up?"

A chorus of snickers.

"A disgraced ex-con accountant?" Austin sneered. "She doesn't deserve my time."

I walked right up to their table. "Care to explain?"

When Austin saw me, there wasn't a flicker of guilt on his face. He just smirked, kicking his designer loafers up onto the mahogany table.

"Well, you see how it is. No point in hiding it anymore."

"It started as a dare. Play the broke guy, see if I could land the smart girl."

"But you just had to be difficult. Refused to be my side piece."

"Now that you've rotted in a cell for three years, do you still have that high-and-mighty attitude?"

The table erupted into laughter.

I felt a cold smile touch my lips. Austin had a pretty face, but his head was filled with absolute mush. The ring he stole was worth barely fifteen hundred dollars. There was no universe in which that carried a three-year sentence.

The place they sent me was Otisville.

Taking the fall for his petty theft was just a convenient cover for what I actually needed to hide.

Austin looked me up and down, scanning my face and body like he was appraising a piece of cheap merchandise. He nodded slowly.

"Three years in federal lockup, and you haven't even lost your edge."

He pulled a thick stack of bills from his leather wallet and slammed twenty thousand dollars onto the table with a sharp slap. "Too bad. An ex-con woman's time is only worth about this much a year."

His cronies sneered in unison.

"What's a felon doing acting so high and mighty?"

"She won't even be able to get a job at a diner. She should be thanking God for twenty grand."

I stared at them, my expression flat. Inside, I was laughing.

Before my arrest, my annual salary was a cool million. And today, my new boss was offering me a starting package of three million. Austin actually thought twenty thousand was something to brag about.

I reached out, picked up the stack of bills, and weighed it in my palm.

Austin's smirk widened, entirely self-satisfied. "See?" he drawled. "Why make things hard on yourself? If youd just played nice and kept your mouth shut as my mistress, I would've given you a hundred thousand a year."

Before he could finish his sentence, I hurled the stack of cash directly into his face.

"That pathetic pocket change wouldn't cover my monthly coffee budget. You actually thought you were doing something here?"

The table flared with anger.

"You ungrateful bitch!"

"Just wait until you're desperate enough to beg some old creep to pay your rent!"

"No class. Typical jailbird."

Austin's face twisted into a dark scowl, laughing mockingly. "Gwen, do you ever stop lying to yourself?"

"Before you went inside, you were a nobody accountant. You lived in a damp basement, eating instant ramen every night, making five thousand a month at best."

"Where the hell do you think you're getting big money?"

A sharp needle of memory pricked my chest.

The month I spent with him had been the absolute nadir of my life. I was under federal investigation, all my bank accounts had been frozen, and I was hiding out in a dingy basement, surviving on dry noodles. But it was also during that desperate, agonizing period that I resolved to clean up my act once and for all.

"A low-level accountant should be kissing my feet for even looking her way," Austin sneered.

"I dropped hints about keeping you on the side, and you threatened to castrate me if I ever cheated on you."

"So I staged the whole proposal. I stole that diamond ring, proposed, and then called the cops on you myself."

"And you were stupid enough to take the fall and go to prison for me."

The pieces finally clicked. So that was his grand design.

When he had proposed to me, I had been blinded by emotion. I was already facing a prison sentence for my own actions, and I didn't want to drag him down with me. When the police showed up, he wept, begging me to confess, claiming hed only stolen the ring out of sheer desperation. He said a felony charge would ruin his life forever. My heart had softened. I figured I was already facing three years in Otisville anyway; taking on one minor grand theft charge wouldn't make a difference. So I took the heat.

I had no idea the entire sequence of events was a script he wrote.

Seeing my silence, Austin assumed I was intimidated. He reached out to touch my cheek, his fingers greasy, his voice dripping with condescension.

"Now that you have a record, I'm the only option you've got left."

"Keep me happy, and maybe I'll bump your allowance up to fifty grand a year."

The men around him chuckled dirtily. "Seriously, Austin, she is a stunner. Don't forget about your boys when you're done with her." "We can even start a pool to lease her, as long as you're sharing."

My eyes turned to ice. I grabbed his wrist in a vice grip and flung his hand away.

"I'll settle my accounts with you later," I said, my voice dead calm.

"Right now, I have an appointment in Suite One."

The table fell dead silent for a beat. Then, it exploded into a deafening roar of laughter, as if I had just delivered the punchline of the century.

Austin laughed so hard he had to clutch his stomach. "Gwen, did they teach you how to tell fairy tales in prison?"

The others chimed in.

"The Summit Club is exclusive as hell. Even Austin only has access to the main lounge."

"Suite One is reserved for VIPs. Only people like Mr. Burke Pierce can book that room."

"They wouldn't even hire you as a maid with your criminal record."

"Stop dreaming, honey. Just crawl back to Austin."

I swept a freezing gaze over them. "The person I'm meeting is Burke Pierce, CEO of Apex Enterprises."

The laughter stopped instantly. Doubts and confusion flickered across their faces.

Then, a sharp, haughty female voice cut through the air. "Oh? That's funny. As Mr. Pierce's personal secretary, how is it that I had no idea he was hosting a private meeting in Suite One?"

I turned. A young woman dressed in a tailored designer dress was walking toward us, her eyes brimming with patronizing disdain.

The moment Austin saw her, he rushed over to wrap an arm around her waist, his posture instantly shifting into a sycophantic, eager-to-please pose.

Vicky Mercer gave a cold sniff. "Mr. Pierce is in New York today on business. There is zero chance he's in this club. If you're going to lie, at least do some research first."

I raised an eyebrow. Burke had hired me to be the Chief Financial Officer of Apex Enterprises, yet he hadn't even told his personal secretary. This was getting interesting.

Emboldened by Vicky's presence, Austin pointed at me, eager to explain. "Vicky, babe, this is that little accountant I told you aboutthe one I chased on a dare. Shes just throwing a tantrum because she's not happy with the allowance I offered her."

Vicky sneered. "An ex-con pretending she's on Mr. Pierce's calendar? Delusional."

I tilted my head, genuinely curious. "Austin just offered to keep me as his plaything right in front of you. You aren't even a little jealous?"

Vicky let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "In our social circle, marriage is an alliance of assets. What he does on the side is irrelevant, as long as he doesn't embarrass the Mercer family name."

Austin nodded eagerly. "Vicky is practical. I am the Vice President of Apex Education Group, after all. Only a woman of Vicky's pedigree is fit to stand by my side. You, Gwen, are just a distraction. Though, if you play your cards right, I might let you carry a surrogate child for us. Pregnancy would ruin Vicky's figure, after all."

I didn't lose my temper. Instead, I drifted into quiet thought. My inmate friend back in prison, Frank, had been framed and sent away precisely because of financial discrepancies within Apex Education Group. Before my release, he had begged me to find Burke Pierce and untangle the company's books. Looking at the smug couple in front of me, it seemed the rats had walked right into my path.

I checked my watch. I had exactly five minutes before my scheduled meeting with Burke. I had no desire to waste another second arguing with fools, so I turned toward the hallway.

"Hold on!" Austin barked.

I sighed, turning back with sheer irritation. With a violent swipe of his arm, he crashed the wine glasses, plates, and leftovers off the table. They shattered across the marble floor in a messy pool.

"Clean it up," he commanded, looking down his nose at me.

I stared at him, incredulous. "Excuse me?"

Austin smirked. "An ex-con like you getting into The Summit Club? You must have snuck in to work the cleaning shift. The floor is dirty, jailbird. Get on your knees and lick it clean."

The table roared with laughter again, their predatory eyes locking onto me. "Go on, lick it!" "Don't ruin our night, sweetheart. Do your job!"

From the moment I walked in, they had done nothing but degrade me. At first, I found it pathetic. But now, a cold, sharp anger was beginning to burn through my veins.

I looked at them, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "Are you absolutely sure you want to waste my time? I have five minutes before my meeting with Mr. Pierce. You know his reputation. If he's kept waiting, none of you will survive the fallout."

"Still playing the part, are we?" Vicky scoffed. "I bet there isn't any executive in Suite One. Just some bald, wrinkly sugar daddy who paid for your cheap thrill."

Austin's face darkened, his eyes filling with sudden disgust. "Gwen, I really underestimated how low you'd sink. Selling yourself to old creeps for a quick buck?" He seemed to make a decision. "Fine. I'll increase my offer. Sixty thousand a year. Being with me is a hell of a lot better than letting some old bastard use you."

A dry laugh escaped my throat. Sixty thousand? Did he truly believe I was desperate enough for his pitiful crumbs?

"You don't believe me?" I pointed down the corridor toward Suite One. "Then walk with me. Let's find out together who is waiting in that room."

"Excuse me, but is one of you the guest of Mr. Pierce?" a respectful voice called out. The general manager of the club, Mr. Higgins, was walking briskly toward us.

I took a step forward. "I am."

The room fell dead silent. The smirks on their faces froze. Vicky's expression faltered. "Mr. Pierce is actually here?"

Mr. Higgins looked at me, his eyes scanning my faded, cheap clothes. He hesitated. I couldn't blame himI had just walked out of a federal penitentiary wearing a thirty-dollar target outfit. It was natural for him to doubt me.

Without a word, I reached into my bag, pulled out the gold-embossed invitation card Burke had sent me, and handed it over.

Mr. Higgins took the card. The moment his eyes registered the watermark and the personal seal, his posture instantly softened into deep deference.

"My sincere apologies, Ms. Gwen," he said, bowing slightly. "Mr. Pierce has been waiting for you. Please, allow me to escort you." He extended an arm, gesturing toward the private corridor.

"Wait!" Austin yelled, stepping forward to block our path.

I knit my brows. "What now?"

Mr. Higgins frowned. "Mr. Austin, this is Mr. Pierce's personal guest. Do you really wish to delay her?"

Austin paled slightly, raising his hands. "Mr. Higgins, I mean no disrespect to the CEO. But I have to warn youthis woman is no guest." He pointed a trembling, angry finger at me. "She's an ex-con who probably swiped that invitation card to sneak in and throw herself at Mr. Pierce. Don't let her fool you."

"An ex-con?" Mr. Higgins blinked.

Seeing the manager hesitate, Austin pressed on, his voice filled with triumph. "You have no idea. She was just released today after serving three years for grand theft. She's desperate for a rich benefactor. A man of Mr. Pierce's stature would never meet privately with a common felon. It's absurd!"

The crowd quickly joined the chorus. "A thief trying to climb the social ladder!" "Throw her out before she offends Mr. Pierce!" "Mr. Higgins, remember that gold-digger who stole a pass last year? The club's reputation took a huge hit. Don't make the same mistake."

Mr. Higgins's expression grew increasingly grim. "Ms. Gwen... is it true? Have you served prison time?"

I looked at the sea of mocking faces, finding the entire scene incredibly absurd. They knew I had a record, but they didn't have the slightest understanding of what kind of prison I had been in.

"I was at Otisville," I said quietly. But Mr. Higgins's face remained blank. Like the rest of them, he didn't comprehend the weight of that name.

"Otisville, Danbury, who cares?" one of Austin's friends sneered. "A jailbird is a jailbird!"

They didn't understand. Yes, Otisville housed criminals. But it was reserved for the brilliant, the high-profile, and those whose crimes required a certain level of genius to pull off. It was a facility for elite white-collar offenders, not petty thieves.

Seeing my silence, Austin took it as a sign of defeat. "See? She's got nothing to say. She stole it! A parasite like her deserves to lick the floor clean and be thrown out into the street. Let's teach her a lesson about showing her face around here!" "Yeah, clean it up!" "Get out of here, felon!"

Before I could react, someone kicked the back of my knees. A sharp pain shot up my legs, and I fell hard onto the cold marble. Austin grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing my face down toward the broken plates and spilled food. "You arrogant bitch, act proud now!"

Vicky stood by, her eyes sparkling with malicious amusement. I struggled, but I was outnumbered. Leftover sauce smeared onto my face and clothes. The sharp edge of a shattered porcelain plate sliced across my forearm, leaving a stinging trail of blood.

The crowd roared with laughter, and a couple of the men began to roughly pull at my jacket. Mr. Higgins retreated to the side, his face twisted in disgust, preparing to leave the room to look for Burke's "actual" guest.

Suddenly, a cold, thunderous voice echoed through the lounge. "Stop this instantly!"

"Who gave you the authority to lay a hand on my guest?"