Chapter 4 - The Counterstrike
News travels fast in high society. By noon, the local business news broke the story: Mark Vance Ousted from Vance Logistics Amid Embezzlement Scandal; Estranged Wife Takes Controlling Stake.
While I sat in the executive suite at Vance Logistics headquarters—a room Mark had spent a decade lording over employees—my legal team was hard at work. Beside me stood Arthur Harrison and Victoria Sterling, now appointed as my Chief Financial Officer.
My phone buzzed on the mahogany desk. It was an unknown number. I pressed speaker.
"Clara, you vicious, plotting witch!" Diane’s voice shrieked through the speaker, so loud that Victoria winced. "You stole my son's company! You bribed Richard’s lawyer! We are suing you for every penny you have! Mark is the rightful heir!"
"Diane," I said calmly, leaning back in the leather chair. "You and Mark are currently staying at the Budget Inn on Highway 9, if I’m not mistaken. I suggest you save your energy for the grand jury hearing on Thursday."
"What grand jury?!" Mark’s voice cut in, frantic and breathless. "Clara, please! Talk to me! The bank froze my personal accounts this morning! I can't even pay the deposit for a defense attorney! They took my Mercedes!"
"The district attorney reviewed the forensic accounting documents this morning, Mark," I said coldly. "Grand larceny, corporate embezzlement, and tax fraud. You signed those fraudulent wire transfers using stolen executive credentials. You did this to yourself."
"You did this to us!" Diane screamed in the background. "Mark, give me the phone! Clara, listen to me—if you don't drop these charges and hand over control of the company, I will go to the press! I will tell everyone that you neglected your children, that you slept your way into Richard's favor, that—"
"Go ahead, Diane," I interrupted. "The press already has the police bodycam footage from last night showing you screaming obscenities while being hauled off my lawn. You’re already a viral sensation. Goodbye, Mark."
I ended the call and looked at Arthur. "What’s our next move?"
"Mark and his mother are desperate, which makes them dangerous," Arthur warned. "They’ve hired a sleazy, high-profile tabloid lawyer named Julian Thorne. He’s known for using smear tactics in high-net-worth divorces. He’s going to attack your character, your fitness as a mother, and claim you manipulated Richard in his final days when he was allegedly non-compos mentis."
"Was Richard non-compos mentis when he signed the trust?" I asked.
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"Not in the slightest," Arthur replied. "I have three independent psychiatric evaluations performed on the exact day he executed the trust, certifying his full mental capacity. But Thorne won't care about facts; he wants to drag this through the mud to force you into a settlement."
"Then we won't wait for him to strike," I said, a fire igniting in my chest that I hadn't felt in eleven years. "Gather the press. We’re holding a major corporate press conference tomorrow morning. I’m going to lay every single piece of evidence out in the open before they can say a word."
