Julian’s frantic phone call finally broke through my burner phone at noon.
“Clare! Where are you?” His voice was ragged, the polished CEO veneer entirely stripped away.
“It doesn’t matter, Julian,” I replied, staring at my sleeping daughter.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You froze the corporate accounts! You sold your twenty-eight percent equity to a shell company! Name your price! The house, the cars, ten million in dividends—just lift the freeze! We can negotiate!”
“Do you still not comprehend the situation?” I asked softly. “This is not a negotiation.”
“You want to destroy the Vance Group? Three years of your own blood and sweat?”
“It is my blood and sweat,” I corrected, my tone dropping to an absolute, glacial zero. “You utilized the fortress I built to finance your mistress and her bastard. Over three point five million dollars embezzled from the corporate reserve. I submitted the ledgers to the SEC this morning. They are already auditing your building.”
