Chapter 3 - The Morning After
By 8:00 AM, the financial guillotine had officially dropped. I sat near the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, watching the city wake up, while Sarah slept peacefully in the next room, heavily medicated with safe sedatives prescribed by Dr. Evans. My phone began to buzz incessantly on the glass table. The caller ID flashed my mother’s name. I let it ring out. Then Julian called. Then my mother again.
I finally answered on the seventh attempt, putting the phone on speaker.
“Arthur!” my mother’s voice was shrill, completely devoid of her usual composed, aristocratic arrogance. “What is going on with the bank? My black card just declined at the country club, and Julian’s accounts are locked! Fix this immediately!”
“There’s nothing to fix, Mother,” I replied smoothly, taking a slow sip of my black coffee. “The fraud department flagged several unauthorized wire transfers to offshore trusts. Over four million dollars, to be exact. As the majority shareholder, I’ve had to freeze all assets pending a full federal investigation.”
May you like
There was a dead, suffocating silence on the other end of the line. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as absolute panic set in.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “I am your mother. Half of that company is mine by right.” “You forfeited your rights the moment you put your heel on my pregnant wife’s shoulder,” I said softly. I ended the call and blocked their numbers. Let them drown.
