Chapter 3 - The Desperate Plea
The static on the line buzzed softly against my ear as Preston gasped for breath on the other end of the jailhouse phone.
"Sophie... please," Preston stammered, his voice cracked with a desperation I had never heard from him before. "You have to listen to me. This whole thing was a terrible misunderstanding. My father... my father set all of this up! I didn't know the extent of what he was doing with Aethelgard! I swear to you, Sophie, I loved you! I still love you!"
I let the cold morning breeze brush against my face as I stood on my front porch, completely unmoved by his performance.
"You loved me, Preston?" I asked smoothly. "Is that why you had your attorneys draft a contract to strip my mother of her life's work? Is that why you tossed a hundred-dollar bill at her feet in front of five hundred people last night?"
"That was a joke!" Preston pleaded, his tone rising into a pathetic whine. "It was just a harmless joke to impress my father's board members! You know how my mother and father are! They pressured me to put on a show! I didn't mean anything by it, Sophie! If you just drop the federal statements, if you tell Prosecutor Vance that you made an administrative error, I can get out on bail today. We can fix this. We can still be together!"
I let out a soft, low breath—not of anger, but of utter disgust at his cowardice.
"You really don't get it, do you, Preston?" I said, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. "You didn't just insult my mother. You tried to ruin her. You thought we were weak because we didn't wear tailored suits paid for by stolen bank loans. You thought you were smarter than everyone in that room."
"Sophie, please!" he begged, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing behind him over the receiver as a guard barked at him to wrap up his call. "Victor Sterling is here in the city! He told my mother that if we don't secure your mother's shares, Aethelgard is going to destroy us! They're going to freeze our personal trust funds! They're going to take the house!"
"Aethelgard can't take what is already gone, Preston," I replied coldly. "Your house is already in federal receivership. Your trust funds were seized at eight o'clock yesterday morning. And as for Victor Sterling... tell him I'm looking forward to meeting him in court."
"Sophie! No! Wait—"
I tapped the screen, ending the call, and blocked the jailhouse routing number.
I walked back into the house, setting my phone on the kitchen island. My mother was sitting at the table, quietly reviewing a stack of building maintenance contracts for Sterling Management. She looked up at me, reading my expression instantly.
"Preston?" she asked softly.
"He tried to blame his father," I said, pouring myself a fresh cup of dark coffee. "And he warned me about Victor Sterling."
"Victor Sterling is a vulture," my mother said, her jaw setting in a firm line. "Twenty years ago, when I tried to secure my first commercial loan to buy our fleet of maintenance vans, Victor was the senior risk officer at First National Bank. He took one look at my worn hands, looked at my business plan, and laughed me out of his office. He told me women like me were meant to clean buildings, not own them."
I sat down across from her, taking her hand. "He was wrong twenty years ago, Mom. And he's wrong today."
My tablet chimed on the counter. An urgent high-priority alert flashed from my secure federal inbox. It was an official court summons.
Victor Sterling had just filed an emergency motion in the United States District Court to unfreeze twenty million dollars in Vale corporate assets, claiming that Aethelgard Global held primary senior security interest over the accounts—effectively trying to wipe out all federal restitution claims before the trial could even begin.
The hearing was scheduled for two o'clock that afternoon.
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"He thinks he can outmaneuver us in court before Vance finishes the grand jury indictment," I said, pulling up the docket filings. "He's using Aethelgard's high-priced legal team to force an immediate ruling."
My mother stood up, smoothing down her blouse. "Then let's go show the court who really owns those assets."
