Chapter 3 - The Desperate Rat
While I was organizing the financial evidence inside the warmth of the Vance estate, Julian Ross was experiencing the absolute collapse of his constructed world.
By 6:00 PM that evening, Julian was sitting in the back of Serena’s compact sedan outside a suburban motel, screaming into his phone.
"What do you mean my corporate card is frozen?!" Julian yelled at his bank manager. "I am the Senior Vice President of Regional Logistics! I have an unlimited line of credit!"
"Mr. Ross," the voice on the phone replied with mechanical indifference. "Your line of credit was underwritten by Vance Industries holding collateral. The primary account holder, Chairman Charles Vance, executed an emergency revocation order at 1:15 PM today. All associated cards, personal accounts with shared corporate guarantees, and vehicle leases under Vance Logistics are suspended. Good evening."
The line went dead.
Julian threw his phone onto the dashboard, sweating profusely despite the freezing air in the car.
"Julian, what are we going to do?" Serena sobbed from the driver's seat, her polished appearance completely unraveled. "My brother just called me! He said two private investigators in dark suits came to his house in Wilmington asking about Blake Logistics! They served him with an emergency freeze on his business checking account!"
"Shut up! Just let me think!" Julian roared, running both hands through his disheveled hair.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" Serena yelled back, her fear turning into rage. "You told me your wife was nobody! You told me she was a soft, stupid house-woman who wouldn't dare question where the money came from! Now I have federal auditors knocking on my brother's door, and I don't even have a hotel room for the night!"
Julian slammed his fist against the glove compartment. "I didn't know! How could I know Charles Vance was her father?! She took her mother's name! Her resume said she worked for a small independent risk firm!"
"She lied to you!" Serena shrieked.
"No," Julian whispered, a sudden, terrifying chill running down his spine as he remembered the way I had looked at him on the porch—not crying, not screaming, just watching him with those clear, sharp gray eyes. "She didn't lie. She just didn't tell me who she was... because she was watching me."
His phone buzzed on the dashboard.
Julian grabbed it frantically, hoping it was a call from one of his allies on the Vance Industries board. Instead, it was an automated calendar notification from the corporate executive portal:
SPECIAL BOARD MEETING CONFIRMED: 8:00 AM. ROOM 4000, VANCE TOWER. ATTENDANCE MANDATORY FOR JULIAN ROSS.
Below the notification was a brief, automated note from the Office of the Chairman: You will be granted fifteen minutes prior to the board session at 7:45 AM to present your statement.
Julian let out a long, ragged breath. He smoothed down his wrinkled collar, trying desperately to rebuild his shattered confidence.
"See?" Julian said to Serena, his voice shaking as he forced a weak, arrogant smile. "See? Old man Vance gave me a private slot before the board meeting. He knows he can't ruin me publicly without tanking the Apex Global merger. If the news gets out that the regional VP was skimming, the stock drops ten percent overnight."
"You think he wants to settle?" Serena asked, wiping her mascara-stained cheeks.
"Of course he wants to settle!" Julian said, his courage returning like a toxic rush. "He’s a businessman! He’s protecting his company’s stock price! He’s going to offer me a quiet buyout, a severance package, and a non-disclosure agreement to keep my mouth shut about the accounting flaws. That’s how these old billionaires work."
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Julian adjusted his tie in the rearview mirror, looking at his reflection.
"Elena thinks she won because her daddy came to pick her up in a sedan," Julian sneered softly. "She thinks she ruined me. Tomorrow morning, I’m walking out of Vance Tower with a two-million-dollar severance check, and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it."
