Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Park
Two days later, the private intelligence team delivered a massive digital dossier to Benjamin’s study.
What they discovered about Gregory Vance was far worse than simple deadbeat fatherhood. Gregory was deeply indebted to an illegal gambling syndicate operating out of Atlantic City. He owed three hundred thousand dollars to dangerous loan sharks who had given him a deadline: pay by the end of the month, or end up at the bottom of the ocean.
Gregory’s sudden legal claim over Chloe wasn't just a greedy cash grab—it was his desperate attempt to save his own life using Benjamin Crawford’s fortune.
On Friday afternoon, a mandatory preliminary meeting was scheduled at a neutral family mediation center near Central Park.
Benjamin walked into the private conference room wearing a sleek charcoal suit. He was accompanied by Marcus Sterling.
Sitting across the long oak table was Gregory Vance—a gaunt, oily man in his late thirties with dark circles beneath his eyes, wearing a cheap, borrowed suit that hung loosely off his frame. Beside him sat his sleazy court-appointed attorney, Arthur Snell.
Gregory leaned back in his chair, a smug, repulsive grin spreading across his face as he looked at the billionaire sitting opposite him.
"Mr. Crawford," Attorney Snell began smoothly. "My client, Mr. Vance, is seeking to re-establish his natural parental role in his daughter Chloe’s life. While we acknowledge you have provided her temporary shelter, you must understand that the bond between a father and daughter is sacred under the law."
"Sacred?" Benjamin repeated quietly, resting his hands flat on the table. "Mr. Vance, you haven't seen Chloe since before she was born. You didn't pay for her birth, her food, her clothes, or her mother's funeral. Where was your sacred bond when she was sleeping on cardboard in my pantry?"
Gregory’s smug grin faltered slightly, but he leaned forward, resting his yellowed teeth on a sneer.
"People change, Crawford," Gregory rasped, his voice rough from years of heavy smoking. "I was young and dumb back then. Now I want my baby girl back. Course... I know you’re a busy, powerful man. And you’ve grown real fond of her. It’d be a real shame if a long, nasty custody battle dragged on for three years in the press, wouldn't it?"
Marcus Sterling narrowed his eyes. "State your price, Snell. Stop wasting our time."
Attorney Snell cleared his throat, shuffling his papers. "My client is willing to execute a full, irreversible surrender of parental rights and consent to your sole adoption of Chloe... in exchange for a private settlement of five million dollars."
"Five million," Benjamin said, his tone entirely unreadable.
"A drop in the bucket for a guy like you," Gregory smirked, tapping his greasy fingers on the table. "You get the kid, I get to start over. Everyone wins."
Benjamin looked at Gregory Vance for five long seconds. The air in the room grew so dense that Attorney Snell shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Slowly, Benjamin reached into his suit jacket.
Gregory’s eyes flashed with greedy anticipation, expecting a checkbook.
Instead, Benjamin pulled out a thick black tablet and laid it flat in the middle of the table. He tapped the screen.
An audio recording began to play through the high-definition speakers.
“I don't give a damn about the kid!” Gregory’s distinct, rasping voice echoed through the quiet conference room. “She’s just a paycheck! Once I get the five mill out of Crawford, I’ll pay off the Atlantic City guys and catch a flight to Mexico. Crawford can keep the brat forever!”
Gregory Vance went dead pale. His jaw dropped in absolute horror. "Where... how did you get that?!"
"That recording was made last night at 11:30 PM inside the VIP lounge of the Royal Palms Casino," Benjamin explained smoothly, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "You were boasting to your bookie about how you were going to play me for a fool."
"That's illegal wiretapping!" Attorney Snell shrieked, jumping to his feet.
"It was recorded in a public commercial establishment by a third party," Marcus Sterling countered calmly, pulling out a stack of federal legal documents. "Which makes it completely admissible in a criminal extortion investigation. Furthermore, Mr. Vance, we have forwarded this recording, along with your Atlantic City debt records, to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the District Attorney's office."
Benjamin stood up, leaning over the table until his face was inches from Gregory’s trembling, sweaty visage.
"You have two choices, Gregory," Benjamin hissed, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. "Option one: you sign the full surrender of parental rights documents that my attorney has prepared right now, walk out that door, and leave New York forever. Option two: I walk out that door, release this recording to every news outlet in America, and let your bookies and the FBI fight over who gets to arrest you first."
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Gregory shook violently, his chest heaving as panic consumed him. He looked at his attorney, but Snell was already packing his briefcase, completely unwilling to be dragged into a federal extortion indictment.
"Where..." Gregory choked out, his voice cracking. "Where do I sign?"
