Chapter 7: The Lawyer's Warning
Marcus sat behind the steering wheel of his expensive white sports car, wearing dark sunglasses and a sleek tailored suit. He looked at Alejandro and Carmela standing on the dusty sidewalk with their suitcases, looking like two shipwrecked survivors. He didn't look sympathetic; his face was a mask of cold, professional detachment.
"Marcus!" Alejandro ran to the passenger side window, his hands gripping the hot metal door. "Thank God! You have to help us! Victoria has gone completely insane! She froze my offshore accounts, she changed the locks, she even froze my mother's private Swiss account! You're my friend, Marcus! You know corporate law—we can fight this!"
Marcus slowly took off his sunglasses, looking at Alejandro with a calm, analytical gaze. "Alejandro, listen to me very carefully. I am not your friend. I am the General Counsel for Vance Enterprises. My salary, my stock options, and my legal retainer are paid by the corporate entity. And right now, the corporate entity views you as a cancer that has just been successfully removed."
"How can you say that?!" Carmela shouted, pushing her way past her son. "We brought you into this company, Marcus! Alejandro gave you your executive bonus last year!"
"Your son signed the bonus authorization form, Mrs. Vance, but the funds came from Victoria’s private family trust," Marcus said, his voice flat and smooth. "Let’s be honest with ourselves for once. Alejandro didn't build anything. He was a placeholder. Victoria wanted a husband who could play the part of a big-time executive so she could focus on development without dealing with the media. He failed at his one simple job because he got greedy."
"Marcus, please..." Alejandro’s voice broke, tears of pure humiliation finally spilling over his eyelids. "I have nothing. They took the twelve million from the Cayman account. My personal accounts are wiped. We don't even have cash for a hotel tonight. Just lend me a few thousand dollars. I’ll pay you back, I swear."
Marcus reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a small, white paper envelope. He tossed it through the window, and it landed on the passenger seat before sliding down onto Alejandro’s shoes on the sidewalk.
"What is this?" Alejandro asked, picking it up with trembling fingers.
"That is five hundred dollars in cash," Marcus said, putting his sunglasses back on. "It’s not a loan, Alejandro. Consider it a final severance payment from Victoria. She instructed me to give it to you if you signed the transfer forms without causing a scene at the gates. It’s enough for a cheap motel and a couple of meals."
"Five hundred dollars?!" Carmela shrieked, her voice cracking with pure outrage. "A five-hundred-dollar handout from that woman?! We are the Vance family! We won't take her charity!" She reached down to snatch the envelope from Alejandro's hand to throw it back into the car, but Alejandro pulled his hand away, clutching the paper tightly against his chest.
"Mom, stop!" Alejandro yelled, his voice desperate. "We need this! We don't have anything else!"
Carmela looked at her son, her mouth open in absolute shock. She realized, with a sickening feeling in her stomach, that her son had been completely broken. The proud, powerful CEO she had bragged about to all her friends was gone. He was just a beggar holding a white envelope on a public street.
Marcus started the car's engine, the powerful motor roaring to life, sending a cloud of exhaust dust over their designer luggage.
"One final piece of legal advice, Alejandro," Marcus said over the rumble of the engine. "Don't try to contact Victoria. Don't try to come back to the property. If you enter within five hundred feet of the estate or the corporate offices, David has orders to activate the permanent restraining order we filed at the courthouse this morning. If you violate it, you won't go to a luxurious federal prison—you'll go to the county jail with the common criminals. Move on with your life. What’s left of it."
With a sharp squeal of tires, Marcus hit the gas pedal, and the white sports car sped down the avenue, disappearing into the midday traffic, leaving them alone once again in the suffocating heat.
Alejandro looked down at the envelope in his hand. Five hundred dollars. He slowly stuffed it into his trouser pocket, his movements heavy and robotic. He looked at his mother, whose face was covered in a mixture of dust, sweat, and dried tears. Her expensive robe was stained from groveling on the floor of the guest house.
"Where do we go, Alejandro?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the passing city traffic.
"There's a budget motel near the old train station," Alejandro said, his voice completely hollow. "It’s about two miles from here. We can walk."
"Walk?!" Carmela gasped, looking down at her high-heeled designer shoes. "In this heat? Dragging these heavy suitcases? Alejandro, we can't!"
"We don't have money for a taxi, Mom," Alejandro said, his tone sharp and bitter. He grabbed the handles of the two large suitcases and began walking down the concrete sidewalk, his head low, his eyes fixed on the pavement.
Carmela stood frozen for a moment, looking back at the massive iron gates of the mansion. The security guards were watching her through the security glass, their faces expressionless. She realized she had no choice. She turned and began shuffling after her son, her expensive shoes pinching her feet with every step.
But as they walked away from the affluent neighborhood, heading toward the industrial district near the tracks, Alejandro’s phone—his old, personal burner phone that he had hidden in his briefcase—suddenly vibrated in his pocket.
He stopped, pulled it out, and looked at the screen. It was an anonymous text message from an unknown, encrypted number.
May you like
“The twelve million is gone, Alejandro, but the Chinese buyers aren't finished with you. You promised them the master access codes to the Vance servers, and they already paid their advanced deposit to your middleman. They don't care about your divorce. They want their data, or they want your head.”
Alejandro’s heart stopped. The nightmare wasn't over. It was getting much, much worse.
