Chapter 5 - The Counterstrike
Two weeks later, the headlines in Manhattan were unrelenting.
HUDSON VALLEY SOCIALITE INDICTED IN $22M TRUST FRAUD. MERCER GLOBAL LEADS RECOVERY OF STOLEN WHITMORE ASSETS.
Claire sat in the corner office of Mercer Global’s midtown skyscraper, fifty floors above Fifth Avenue. The glass walls offered a panoramic view of Central Park, bathed in late autumn sunlight.
Across the marble coffee table sat Arthur Vance, Vanessa’s lead defense attorney, along with Vanessa’s daughter, Chloe—a sharply dressed woman in her late twenties who looked terrifyingly like her mother.
Chloe slammed a thick folder onto the table.
“This is extortion,” Chloe snapped, her voice trembling with furious arrogance. “You’ve frozen my company’s operating accounts! Whitmore Fashion Group employs forty people! You have no right to freeze payroll based on allegations against my mother!”
Grant sat behind his desk, reviewing a document on his tablet, completely unbothered by her outburst.
Claire leaned forward, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink.
“We didn’t freeze your payroll, Chloe,” Claire said smoothly. “The federal government froze your accounts because three million dollars of my mother’s trust money was deposited directly into your firm’s seed-capital account in March of 2021.”
“It was an investment!” Chloe yelled. “Thomas signed the authorization!”
“Thomas was given forged corporate resolutions,” Grant said, finally looking up from his screen. His voice was icy. “And unfortunately for you, Miss Whitmore... or rather, Miss Miller... we received the forensic deposition from your chief financial officer two hours ago.”
Chloe’s face drained of color. “What deposition?”
“Your CFO admitted under oath that you were fully aware the funds originated from Caroline Whitmore’s testamentary trust,” Grant continued calmly. “In fact, you drafted the fake loan agreements yourself to make the wire transfers appear as commercial debt.”
Arthur Vance cleared his throat nervously, adjusting his silk tie. “Mr. Mercer... my client is prepared to discuss a civil settlement. If Miss Whitmore drops her corporate claims against Whitmore Fashion Group, we can arrange for a full relinquishment of Mrs. Whitmore’s claims on the Hudson Valley real estate—”
“No,” Claire interrupted.
The attorney blinked. “No?”
“There will be no settlement,” Claire said, standing up. “There will be no deal. Your client stole fourteen years of peace from my family. She tried to humiliate my brother at his own wedding. She tried to destroy my father’s sanity.”
Claire walked toward the door, holding it open.
“You will surrender the deeds to the Vermont timberland by five o’clock today,” Claire said, looking Chloe dead in the eye. “You will sign over all rights to my mother’s jewelry collection currently held in Zurich. And your mother will plead guilty to all state and federal counts.”
“And if we don’t?” Chloe spat, her chin trembling.
Claire smiled—a small, calm, terrifying smile.
“If you don’t,” Grant added from his desk, “I will buy the debt on your fashion house’s parent holding company by six o’clock, declare it in default by seven, and put you in a federal courtroom beside your mother by Monday morning.”
May you like
The silence in the office was absolute.
Arthur Vance picked up his briefcase, stood up, and looked at Chloe. “Sign the papers, Chloe. Now.”
