Chapter 10 - The Corporate Tip-Off
On Friday morning, Julian was finally released from the county jail after his discount lawyer managed to post a $5,000 bail bond—borrowed at an exorbitant interest rate from a bail bondsman because all of Julian’s liquid accounts remained completely frozen by my forensic injunctions.
He didn't go to the house; the GPS monitoring bracelet snapped around his ankle by the court ensured that if he came within five hundred feet of my estate, the police would be alerted instantly. Instead, he took an Uber directly to his corporate headquarters downtown, desperate to salvage his job and his reputation after two days of unexplained absences.
He walked into the sleek, glass-walled lobby of Vance-Sterling Commercial Real Estate, expecting his receptionist to greet him with his usual morning espresso. Instead, his ID badge beeped red at the security turnstiles. Access Denied.
A uniform security guard stepped out from behind the front desk, accompanied by the Director of Human Resources, a sharp-eyed woman named Brenda who had never liked Julian’s arrogant demeanor.
“Julian,” Brenda said coldly, standing five feet away from him without extending a hand. “We need you to come up to the third-floor conference room immediately. We have some internal compliance matters to discuss.”
Julian puffed out his chest, trying to project authority despite his wrinkled suit and bloodshot eyes. “Brenda, I’ve had a family medical emergency. My wife has been in the hospital. I need to get to my desk and check my client accounts.”
“Your client accounts have already been reassigned to senior management, Julian,” Brenda replied, gesturing toward the elevator. “Please follow me. Legal counsel is waiting.”
When Julian stepped into the glass-walled conference room, he found not only his managing director, but also two forensic auditors from the corporate compliance department. Sitting in the center of the mahogany table was a three-inch-thick binder labeled: INTERNAL AUDIT: JULIAN VANCE - EXPENSE MISCONDUCT & CLIENT LEDGER FRAUD.
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It was the dossier I had compiled from my hospital bed and emailed to the executive board on Wednesday night. Every fake receipt, every unauthorized weekend getaway with Chloe Miller, and every fictitious vendor invoice had been cross-referenced with the company’s master server.
Julian’s professional execution was about to begin.
