Chapter 3 - The Legal Executioner Strikes First
“What are you talking about?” Isaac gasped, struggling to his feet while clutching his bruised neck. “My money is untouchable! It’s in offshore trust funds!”
Marcus chuckled, turning the tablet screen so Isaac could see the glowing green numbers rapidly plunging into negative red territory. “You mean the Cayman shell corporation you registered under your mistress’s maiden name? Or the dummy accounts in Zurich you used to siphon thirty million dollars from your father’s pension fund?”
Arthur Vance’s head snapped toward his son. “What did he just say? Isaac! What pension fund?!”
“He’s lying, Dad! He’s hacking our systems! Make them leave!” Isaac screamed, his voice cracking into high-pitched hysteria.
“I don’t hack, Isaac. I audit,” Marcus said smoothly. “And as of three minutes ago, the Securities and Exchange Commission, along with the Internal Revenue Service Criminal Investigation Division, received sixteen gigabytes of unredacted ledger files detailing eleven years of corporate tax evasion, illegal kickbacks to city inspectors, and the deliberate use of substandard steel in the new Harbor Bridge project.”
A collective gasp swept through the remaining high-society guests. Several prominent business partners who had been standing near the bar immediately backed away toward the rear exits, desperate to distance themselves from the Vance name.
Julian stepped forward, handing a thick folder directly to Arthur. “This is a freeze order on all personal assets. That includes your bank accounts, credit lines, investment portfolios, your private jets, your yacht in Miami, and this very estate.”
“You can’t freeze my personal estate!” Wendy shrieked, her voice shaking with rage and terror. “This house has been in the Vance name for three generations! My jewelry alone is worth five million dollars!”
“Your jewelry was purchased using embezzled investor dividends, Mrs. Vance,” Julian replied without an ounce of warmth. “Which makes it court-seized evidence. If you attempt to remove a single diamond ring from this premises, you will be arrested for tampering with federal evidence.”
Clover Sinclair, who had been quietly trying to slip out through the side terrace doors, was suddenly blocked by Caleb Sterling.
Caleb leaned casually against the doorway, chewing a piece of gum. “Going somewhere, Clover? Leaving so soon after getting Isaac to beat his wife for your dress?”
“I have nothing to do with this!” Clover stammered, clutching her stained dress, her arrogant composure completely shattered. “I’m just a guest! Let me go!”
“A guest?” Caleb pulled a sleek smartphone from his pocket. “That’s weird. Because according to these wire transfers, you received two million dollars from Isaac’s corporate account last Thursday to purchase a penthouse in Manhattan under an LLC named ‘C&I Forever.’ Did you really think Isaac was using his own money, sweetheart? He was spending Flora’s trust fund dividends.”
Isaac froze, his eyes widening in horror as he looked at Flora. “What trust fund?”
Flora stepped forward, standing between Noah and Julian. For the first time all evening, she spoke directly to the room.
“Did you really believe my brothers sent me into this marriage empty-handed, Isaac?” Flora asked, her voice calm and chilling. “The twenty-million-dollar liquidity injection that saved Vance Construction from bankruptcy three years ago didn’t come from a private venture capital firm. It came from the Sterling Family Trust. I personally authorized the loan to save your family’s business.”
Isaac’s knees buckled. “Y-You... you gave us that money?”
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“Yes,” Flora said softly. “And according to Clause 9 of the investment covenant, any act of physical violence or criminal breach of trust by the Vance family automatically defaults the loan, triggering immediate total forfeiture of all Vance corporate equity to the Sterling Group.”
Julian smiled—a cold, terrifying sight. “Which means, Isaac... as of midnight tonight, Flora doesn't just own your company. She owns everything you have ever touched.”
