Chapter 2 - Welcome to Paradise
David Sterling loved to project an image of effortless wealth. As he stepped off the plane in Maui, the warm tropical breeze blowing through his perfectly styled hair, he probably felt like the king of the world.
He had his mother, Eleanor, who was already complaining about the humidity. He had his sister, Chloe, snapping pictures for Instagram. And he had his mistress, a twenty-four-year-old pilates instructor named Madison, clinging to his arm.
I saw it all via the private investigator I had hired to follow them from the moment they landed. The photos pinged to my phone in real-time.
They approached the VIP desk at the Four Seasons Maui. David confidently slid his black Amex across the marble counter.
Declined.
The concierge smiled politely. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sterling. The card seems to have a block on it. Do you have another form of payment?"
David chuckled, a sound of mild annoyance, and pulled out his Chase Sapphire Reserve.
Declined.
"Try this one," he snapped, his face flushing as Madison looked up at him with wide, confused eyes. He handed over his business card.
Declined.
According to the PI’s text updates, the scene unraveled beautifully. Eleanor stepped up, huffing about incompetence, and offered her own platinum card—the one I paid the balance on every month.
Declined.
It took them forty-five minutes of standing in the lobby, surrounded by their massive pile of luggage, to realize they had absolutely zero access to capital. David finally pulled out his phone and dialed his bank.
I could imagine the automated voice: We are sorry, but this account has been frozen pending a fraud investigation.
My phone buzzed. It was David.
I watched the screen light up. I let it ring until it went to voicemail.
He called again. And again. And again.
By the fifth call, I answered. "Hello, David. How was the deposition?"
"Victoria!" he barked, panic making his voice high and thin. "Something is wrong with the bank. All the accounts are locked. Call the wealth manager immediately. I'm... I'm at a business dinner and my cards are declining!"
"A business dinner," I repeated smoothly. "In Maui? With Madison?"
Dead silence echoed through the line.
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"I saw you at the airport, David," I said, my voice as cold and smooth as a frozen lake. "Enjoy the vacation. Because you are paying for your own flights home."
I hung up and blocked his number.
