Chapter 3 - The Audit and Legal Demand Letters
By Monday morning, my civilian attorney, David Sterling, had finalized formal demand letters addressed individually to Arthur, Ryan, and Madison Vance.
Each letter was sent via certified mail with signature confirmation, detailing the exact principal amount owed, accrued interest, and a strict fourteen-day deadline to execute a formal promissory note backed by collateral.
At 11:00 AM, my father called my office line. I put him on speakerphone while David sat across from my desk.
"Victoria," my father’s voice rang out, stripped of its usual booming confidence, replaced by an edgy, defensive sharpness. "I received a legal notice in the mail. Have you completely lost your mind?"
"You have fourteen days, Dad," I said calmly.
"Fourteen days?!" he snapped. "I am your father! I built the foundation you stand on! You think you got that senior analyst job on your own? You think your education paid for itself?"
"My education was funded by my academic scholarship and three student loans that I paid off myself five years ago," I replied. "And my job was earned through eighty-hour work weeks, not family connections."
"We are talking about $34,000!" Arthur shouted. "In a family, money flows back and forth! You don't drag your parents into a courtroom over a family trip!"
David Sterling leaned toward the microphone. "Mr. Vance, this is David Sterling of Sterling & Associates, representing your daughter. I strongly advise you to refrain from making statements regarding financial contributions unless you have documentary proof to refute the signed loan agreements and bank statements currently in our possession."
Silence stretched over the line.
"Who is this?" Arthur demanded.
"Your daughter's legal counsel," David replied smoothly. "And if the $34,800 is not secured by a notarized agreement by the end of the month, we will file a civil complaint in Fairfax County Court for fraud, unjust enrichment, and conversion. In addition, we will notify Global Horizons Travel Agency of intent to subpoena their recorded phone calls where you claimed authorization on Ms. Vance’s card."
The line went dead. Arthur had hung up.
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David looked at me with a grim smile. "He knows he’s trapped. A civil suit is public record, Victoria. If his clients or his partners at his consulting firm see a public fraud filing, his professional reputation is finished."
"Good," I said, looking out the window at the city skyline. "Because reputation was the only thing he cared about when he left me off that itinerary."
