26. Nick
Nick
Iwake up around three in the morning. I don’t know what woke me up.
It was like a voice. A gentle nudge. I suddenly have clarity.
I feel a shift. Something inside me snaps into place, a lucidity I haven’t felt in years.
I’ve been running from this—from her—for too long.
The blackmail, the lies, the constant threat hanging over my head. It ends now.
I am bringing a child into this world. Do I really want my kid to see me as a man that can’t own up to his mistakes?
A man that allowed a woman, or any person for that matter, to run my life because I was too afraid to face the consequences of my mistake.
A man that let a woman torment people and let her get away with it because I was too afraid.
That is not what I want my child to learn. I don’t know what I have to offer my kid, but I don’t want it to be weakness. I don’t care if it’s a boy or girl. I want my child to look up to me and know I did the right thing despite the consequences.
Even if that meant my child’s first few years were spent visiting me with plexiglass between us.
Ava is mine—mine to protect, mine to care for. And so is our baby. I’m not going to let Sierra or anyone else hurt them.
I get up, knowing there’s no way I can sleep.
I walk downstairs to my gym. When I have a lot to work through, it’s the treadmill.
I crank it up, my mind starting a mental list of what I need to do. This decision will have some serious fallout. I know I will face serious consequences. I need to make sure my company will not suffer. Those people did nothing wrong. They don’t deserve to lose their jobs.
I’ll need to set up a trust for Ava and the baby just in case there’s a freeze on my finances. I need to make sure they are taken care of.
I’m not nervous. Not really. It almost feels freeing.
I’m so ready to get rid of this stupid secret.
So ready to get Sierra out of my life for good.
I don’t want her to go to jail, but I want her out of my life.
She can take her nasty personality somewhere else.
I don’t want that kind of negativity anywhere near my child.
After kicking my own ass on the treadmill, I make myself a simple breakfast and sip coffee. I wait until six before I call my attorney. I don’t care if I wake him up.
I leave a message and hit the shower. I’m drying off when my phone rings.
“Nick,” Tom grumbles. “This better be good.”
“I need you to assemble the best team you can get to defend me.”
“What happened? Did you talk to the police? Say nothing until I can get there. Where are you?”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t commit a felony. At least not recently. Just have everyone meet me here.”
“Not in the office?”
“No. Here.”
“Are we talking felony?” he asks.
“I don’t know. That’s what you guys are going to figure out. I want everyone here at nine.”
“I’ll make some calls,” he says. “And just in case … do not talk to anyone.”
“Understood.”
I end the call and take a second. I’ve started the ball rolling. There is no going back. They’re the best in the business, and if anyone can help me navigate this mess, it’s them.
They arrive like some Avenger squad coming in. It’s a team of attorneys and their assistants. I set everyone up in the dining room.
They’re all looking at me like they’re expecting me to tell them I want on a murdering spree and need their help.
“Thank you all for coming,” I say.
Tom, who’s been with me the longest, looks the most concerned. “I think it’s best you tell us what’s going on.”
I take a deep breath, looking at the team of attorneys around my dining room table. They're all waiting, pens poised over legal pads, expressions serious. This is it—the moment I finally tell someone the truth.
"Ten years ago, I started my company with Sierra as my CFO," I begin. "We were in a relationship at the time. I trusted her completely with the financial side of things while I focused on product development and client acquisition."
I pause, taking a sip of water. My throat feels dry, but I push on.
This is me staring at a massive Y in the road. I’ve been taking the easy way for too long.
"The company grew quickly—too quickly, looking back. Our first round of funding came through without a hitch. Investors were practically throwing money at us. It seemed too good to be true." I laugh bitterly. "And it was."
Tom leans forward, his brow furrowed. "What happened, Nick?"
"Three years in, I discovered Sierra had been cooking the books from the beginning. She'd inflated our projections, misrepresented our assets, and essentially lied to every investor we had." The words taste bitter in my mouth, like admitting a shameful secret I've carried for too long.
"How did you find out?" one of the younger attorneys asks.
"I was preparing for our Series B funding. I wanted to double-check the numbers myself—not because I suspected anything, but because I wanted to understand our financials better. That's when I found discrepancies. Big ones."
Every eye in the room is fixed on me, waiting for the rest of the story. I’m ashamed. I hate having to admit this.
"When I confronted Sierra, she didn't deny it. She actually seemed proud of herself, like she'd pulled off some brilliant scheme. I told her we had to come clean, that we needed to tell our investors the truth and face whatever consequences came our way."
I can see their disappointment even as the wheels in their brains start spinning, working on my defense.
"She refused. Said we'd both go to prison and lose everything we'd built. I told her I was willing to take that risk rather than continue the fraud. That's when she told me she'd make sure I went down alone."
Tom interrupts, his voice sharp with concern. "What did she have on you?"
"She'd been careful. All the falsified documents had my signature—perfectly forged, but convincing enough. She had emails, supposedly from me, instructing her to manipulate the numbers. She'd created a paper trail that made it look like I was the mastermind behind everything."
I see them all grimace, clearly getting how bad the situation was.
"I caught her in bed with someone else shortly after. I think she did it on purpose, wanted me to catch her. It was her way of showing me she didn't need me, but I still needed her. We broke up, but she made it clear if I attempted to fire her, she would go to the authorities. And here we are.”
They were all quiet for several minutes.
“Is she threatening to come out now?” one asks.
“No, but I want it out. That’s something else I need to have done. I’m expecting a child. I need a trust set up for the baby and mother. I don’t know what the fallout of this might be, but I don’t want their money touched. It needs to be kept far from mine.”
“You need to come clean,” Tom says. “The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be. If you take control of the narrative, you can minimize the damage.”
"That's why I called you all here. I'm ready to end this. I want to come clean, face the consequences, and move on with my life. I'm tired of living under her thumb."
"You do understand you could face serious charges," another attorney says. "Securities fraud, wire fraud, potentially conspiracy. The penalties could be severe."
"I understand. But I'm not going to let this hang over my head anymore. I want to do this right."
"We'll need to prepare a full disclosure," Tom says, already making notes. "We'll want to approach the SEC ourselves, show that you're cooperating fully. We'll need to gather all evidence against Sierra, anything that shows she was the architect of this fraud."
"I've been collecting evidence for years," I tell them, feeling a weight lifting from my shoulders. "Every time she slipped up, every inconsistency I could find. I've kept it all."
"Good," Tom nods. "That will help. But Nick, I need to be clear—even with cooperation, even with evidence against Sierra, you're likely facing serious consequences. Fines at minimum, possibly more."
"I know." I take a deep breath. "Like I said, I want to set up trusts for Ava and the baby. I want to make sure they're taken care of, no matter what happens to me."
"We can do that," one of the attorneys says.
We spend the next thirty minutes coming up with a plan. It’s decided I will resign from the board but maintain my shares of the company. Essentially, I’m retiring.
And I’m actually looking forward to it. It gives me time to be a dad.
After the meeting, I call Ava.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “Can you come over after work? There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Of course. Are you coming into the office today?”
“No. Is everything okay? Sierra giving you shit?”
She laughs. “I haven’t seen her.”
“Good. I’ll have dinner waiting. Think you’re up for Italian or should we stick with tacos?”
“Italian sounds good.”
When she arrives, I’m waiting for her in the living room. She looks tired, but beautiful.
“What’s going on?” she asks, sitting down on the couch next to me.
“I’m coming clean. About Sierra. About the financial discrepancies. Everything.”
She looks at me, her eyes widening. “Nick, that’s … that’s huge. Are you sure? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I’m sure. It’s the right thing to do. For the company. For us. For our baby.”
“I don’t understand,” she says.
I tell her about the meeting and my reasons for finally coming clean.
She listens quietly, her expression softening as I explain everything. When I’m done, she reaches out and takes my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine.
“I’m proud of you,” she says.
Relief washes over me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but not that. “You made me want to be a better person. For you. For the baby.”
She smiles, her eyes filling with tears. “Nick …”
I pull her closer, my lips brushing against hers. “I mean it, Ava. You’ve changed everything for me. I want to be honest with you. From now on, it’s nothing but the truth. You, me, and our child.”
She looks away, like she’s uncomfortable.
“Nick, there’s something I need to tell you. If we’re going to be honest, I need to do the same.”
I look at her, my heart skipping a beat. I’m not sure I like this whole honesty thing. I kind of like blissful ignorance. “What is it?”
“It’s about my ex, Ethan. The guy I told you about. I want to explain it.”
I didn’t forget about him, but today I’d been busy with my own bullshit. “Okay,” I say.
She looks away. “We dated for two years in college. Things were good at first, but then he got … clingy. Really clingy. I broke up with him over a year ago, but he hasn’t moved on.
He’s been showing up at family events, texting me constantly, even showing up at my apartment.
I find him creepy, but people keep telling me he’s just ‘having a hard time letting go.’ I had a great job lined up in LA, but I moved here because he wouldn’t leave me alone.
I went to the police, but there’s nothing they can do.
He’s never threatened me or tried to hurt me, but there’s just this feeling.
And now he constantly calls me from different numbers.
I block a number, and he gets a new one. He’s just … everywhere.”
I feel a surge of anger, my hands clenching into fists. “Ava, that’s not okay. He’s harassing you.”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears. “I know. But I don’t know what to do.”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “I’m taking care of it tomorrow. For now, I’m taking care of you.”
She looks at me, her expression softening. “Thank you, Nick.”
I pull her closer, my lips brushing against hers. “You don’t have to thank me, Ava. I’m here for you. Always.”