Chapter 2 - The Morning After
I spent the night at my penthouse downtown—a home my family had never seen because they had never bothered to ask where I lived or invite themselves over to my side of town.
At 7:30 AM, my phone began ringing incessantly.
I picked up my cup of black coffee—poured into a plain glass mug—and glanced at the caller ID: Dad.
I let it ring out.
Ten minutes later, my personal assistant and long-time friend, Sarah, called. I answered immediately.
"Morning, boss," Sarah said, her tone professional yet laced with amusement. "It’s barely eight on Boxing Day and your phone lines are on fire. I’ve had three frantic calls from a dealership manager named Gary, two from your mother, and your chief financial officer is waiting on line two."
"Put CFO Vance through," I instructed.
"James," Marcus Vance’s deep voice came over the speaker. "I just received the automated fraud alerts you triggered last night. The dealership attempted to clear a $112,000 auto-draft against our primary operational account at 6:00 AM."
"I blocked it," I said.
"Good. The bank flagged it as unauthorized identity use," Marcus added. "If you want, our legal team can press criminal charges against the individual who signed the corporate authorization."
I paused, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. "Hold off on criminal charges for forty-eight hours. Let the repossession go through first."
"Understood," Marcus said. "Also... your father is currently standing in our corporate lobby downstairs. He’s demanding to see the 'owner of the company.' The front desk security guards don't know who he is, and he’s causing quite a scene."
A cold smile touched my lips. For years, my father had bragged to his friends about his own past business acumen while dismissing my tech firm as "just some computer stuff." He had never even visited my office.
"I’m on my way down," I said.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into the sleek, marble-floored lobby of Apex Dynamics, my $180 million logistics-software firm.
Dad was red-faced, shouting at two uniform security guards who were standing between him and the glass turnstiles.
"I am James Vance’s father!" Dad bellowed. "Call his manager! Call whoever is in charge! He works here!"
"Dad," I called out, stepping out of the private executive elevator.
Dad turned around, his eyes wide with anger and confusion. He looked at my custom-tailored suit, my luxury watch, and the four security guards who immediately stood at attention when I approached.
"James!" Dad stormed toward me. "Tell these idiots who I am! And fix this mess with the dealership! Chloe is crying hysterically! They’re towing the car right now!"
"Mr. Vance," the head of security stepped forward, looking at me. "Is this man bothering you?"
Dad scoffed. "Bothering him? I’m his father! He’s an employee here!"
"Dad," I said softly, looking him dead in the eye. "I don't work here. I own the company. Every floor, every server, every contract."
Dad froze. He looked around the massive, high-tech atrium, the company logo glowing in brushed steel behind the reception desk, and the dozen employees who were bowing their heads respectfully as they walked past us.
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"You... you own Apex Dynamics?" Dad whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "The company that was featured in Forbes last month?"
"The very same," I replied. "The company whose corporate credit line you attempted to fraudulently use yesterday. Now, step out of my lobby before my security team removes you for trespassing."
