Chapter 7 - The Downfall of a Titan
By Monday morning, the financial sections of every major newspaper in the country carried the headline:
VENTURE CAPITALIST GRANT HOLLOWELL ARRESTED IN MULTIMILLION-DOLLAR FRAUD SCANDAL; ASSOCIATES IMPLICATED.
The arrest had been swift and merciless. Federal agents had intercepted Grant as he attempted to board a private charter flight out of Teterboro Airport, seizing his passports, his encrypted devices, and the remaining access keys to his offshore accounts. Sloan Mercer had already surrendered to federal prosecutors, cutting a deal to turn state's evidence in exchange for a reduced sentence, laying bare every transaction Grant had orchestrated.
Inside the sunlit living room of Uncle Richard’s brownstone, Leah sat by the window, watching the morning news broadcast on the silent flat-screen monitor.
The screen showed footage of Grant being led out of a lower Manhattan precinct in federal handcuffs, his face shielded by a tailored jacket, his name dragged through the mud he had spent a lifetime trying to avoid.
Her phone rang. It was Marcus Vance.
"Leah," Vance said, his tone brisk and victorious. "The judge just granted our emergency motion for immediate dissolution of the marriage under fraudulent pretenses, full sole custody of Elias upon birth, and a freezing order on all remaining unencumbered assets. Grant’s legal team didn't even contest it. They’re too busy trying to keep him out of a maximum-security holding facility."
"Thank you, Marcus," Leah said, a immense weight lifting from her shoulders. "What about the trust for Elias?"
"Fully funded," Vance confirmed. "Fourteen million dollars recovered from the primary shell accounts, deposited directly into a secure custodial trust bearing your name and your son's. Grant Hollowell won't see a dime of it."
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She hung up the phone and looked out at the bustling Manhattan street below.
The city looked different today. The gray chill of February felt less like a threat and more like the crisp beginning of spring.
