He told me I wasn’t smart enough to be a VP. When I proved him wrong, he didn’t send congratulations; he sent fabricated evidence of embezzlement to my boss.
The meeting was supposed to be about my first quarter projections as the new Vice President of Marketing. I walked in with my iPad and a smile, ready to impress the CEO. Instead, I walked into an ambush.
Sitting next to the CEO was the Director of HR and the Head of Legal. The air in the room was so cold I could practically see my breath.
“Sit down, Jessica,” the CEO said, avoiding my eyes. “We’ve received a credible tip regarding financial misconduct. Effective immediately, you are placed on unpaid administrative leave pending an investigation.”
They slid a folder across the table. Inside were bank statements, invoices, and emails—all appearing to show that I had funneled $50,000 of the marketing budget into a shell company.
I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. The documents looked perfect. The fonts, the letterheads, the timestamps—it was a masterpiece of forgery. And I knew exactly who the artist was.
The Architect of My Ruin
My ex-boyfriend, Mark, works in forensic accounting. When we were together, he loved to belittle my career. “You’re great with people, Jess,” he’d say with a condescending pat on the head, “but leave the numbers to the adults. You’re not built for the C-suite.”
When I left him six months ago, he promised I would regret it. When I landed this promotion—the one he said I’d never get—he didn’t just get angry. He got industrious.
He used his professional skills to build a frame job so convincing that it fooled my company’s internal audit team. He wanted me fired for cause. He wanted my reputation destroyed so I would never work in this industry again. He wanted to prove that I was incompetent and corrupt.
The Walk of Shame
Security escorted me to my desk to get my keys and phone. They didn’t let me touch my computer. I had to walk past the team I had just started leading, holding a cardboard box, while whispers erupted around the open-plan office.
I went home and cried for an hour. Then, I remembered who I was. Mark was right about one thing: I’m not an accountant. But I am smart enough to know that every digital crime leaves a fingerprint.
The Fatal Flaw
Mark is arrogant. He thinks he’s the smartest person in every room. That arrogance made him sloppy.
Because I was locked out of my work email, the “anonymous tip” had been sent to the general ethics portal. My lawyer subpoenaed the digital files immediately as part of my defense.
Mark had gone to great lengths to forge the bank statements, but he made a rookie mistake with the digital submission. He had converted the forged Excel sheets into PDFs to send them to HR. But he hadn’t scrubbed the metadata.
When my forensic IT specialist opened the properties of the “damning evidence,” there it was in black and white:
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Author: Mark_V_MacBook_Pro
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Creation Date: Two days ago at 11:42 PM.
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Last Modified By: Mark V.
He had created the documents on his personal laptop, connected to his home Wi-Fi—the same Wi-Fi network I used to connect to when we lived together.
The Turnabout
The second meeting with HR was very different from the first.
My lawyer laid the metadata analysis on the table. We also provided GPS data from my phone proving I was at a spin class during the times the “embezzlement emails” were allegedly sent from my IP address.
The CEO looked at the report, then at me. “Jessica, I…” “Save it,” I said. “I want full reinstatement. I want a public apology issued to the staff. And I want the company’s legal support in what I’m about to do next.”
The Aftermath
I am back at my desk today. The apology email went out this morning. But the real satisfaction isn’t here; it’s happening across town.
My company decided to press charges for tortious interference and fraud. Because Mark used his professional credentials to fabricate financial documents, he isn’t just looking at a lawsuit from me; he’s looking at losing his CPA license and facing potential prison time for forgery and cyberstalking.
He wanted to prove I wasn’t smart enough to keep my job. Instead, he proved he wasn’t smart enough to get away with a crime. I’m keeping the promotion. He’s losing his career.
And as for “leaving the numbers to the adults”? I think the jury will have plenty of numbers for him to crunch soon.
