Chapter 5 - The Freezing of the Empire
The counter-strike from the Vance family was swift but desperate. Two days after the confrontation at my door, my bank accounts were suddenly frozen. Diego’s high-priced family lawyer had filed an emergency injunction, claiming that the funds in my personal account were tied to marital assets and that I was attempting to liquidate them during a pending separation.
I sat in Leo's high-rise office, staring at the red notification on my laptop screen.
"They're trying to starve you out, Val," Leo said, pacing the room while reviewing a mountain of financial printouts. "They know you need cash to maintain your architectural firm's overhead. If you can't pay your contractors by Friday, your current project—the Riverfront Plaza—will default, and you'll be personally liable for millions."
"It's a classic intimidation tactic," I said, my teeth clenched. "But they forgot one thing. The Riverfront Plaza contract isn't under my personal name. It’s held by my independent LLC, which was established three years before I ever met Diego."
"And the funding?"
"Is routed through a private trust my grandfather set up for me," I smiled grimly. "Diego never even knew it existed because I never used a single cent of it during our marriage. I kept it as a safety net for the business."
Sarah Jenkins, a forensic accountant Leo had hired, walked into the office carrying a thick manila envelope. "We just got the subpoenaed bank records from Diego's secret accounts. It's worse than we thought, Valerie. He wasn't just stealing to save his father’s firm. He’s been funnelling money to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands registered under a shell company called DV Investments."
"DV?" Leo muttered. "Diego Vance."
"No," Sarah corrected, her eyes fixed on me. "The co-signer on the account isn't Diego. It's Victoria Vance. His mother has been the mastermind behind the entire embezzlement scheme. She wasn't moving into your condo because she was tired of the stairs. She was moving in because she’s already sold her own mansion to a private buyer to cover her tracks before the feds audit her."
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The sheer scale of the deception washed over me. The dinner party hadn't just been a spontaneous burst of anger. It was their final, desperate play to secure an asset they could liquidate before the entire empire collapsed.
"They wanted my home to save themselves from a federal penitentiary," I whispered. "Well, let's make sure they get a permanent home behind bars instead."
