Chapter 5 - The Lockbox
The day after Clara’s funeral—a quiet, private affair paid for by me—I went to her tiny, rundown apartment in the Bronx.
The place was spotless but desperately poor. Underneath her sagging mattress, I found exactly what she described: a heavy steel lockbox. I broke the padlock with a hammer.
Inside were ledgers. Decades-old bank statements. Handwritten letters between Arthur Vance and Elena Sterling.
As I read through the documents, my blood ran cold. Arthur hadn't just abandoned Clara's mother. He had illegally transferred all of the Sterling family's remaining assets into offshore accounts to launch Vance Enterprises. He had committed massive corporate fraud, and the statute of limitations on the specific type of international wire fraud he used hadn't expired.
My father was a thief. Everything I owned was built on stolen money.
I packed the ledgers into my briefcase. It was enough to send him to federal prison for the rest of his life. But if I released it, Vance Enterprises would crash. My fortune would evaporate.
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I looked at the canvas tote bag Lily had left by the door.
I didn't care about the money anymore.
