Chapter 2 - The Dismantling of an Empire
The master study of Evan and Claire’s suburban home looked less like a room in a modern house and more like an interrogation chamber in an underground bunker. The floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves remained, but the room was now occupied by six men in dark suits who stood like statues around the perimeter. In the center of the room, tied securely to a heavy leather armchair with industrial zip-ties, sat Evan.
His face was pale, slick with cold sweat, and his expensive designer shirt was torn at the collar where he had been manhandled down the stairs. Across from him, sitting behind Evan’s own mahogany desk, sat Victor Hale. Victor was casually turning Evan’s gold Montblanc pen over in his fingers, the rhythmic click-clack of the pen the only sound in the room.
Claire sat nearby on a velvet sofa, wrapped in a warm woolen blanket, a private medic having already taped her ribs and administered a strong dose of pain medication. She watched her husband with hollow, emotionless eyes.
"Let's talk about assets, Evan," Victor said smoothly, not even looking up at his captive. He picked up a leather-bound tablet from the desk—Evan’s own financial ledger. "According to my accountants, who accessed your corporate servers about four minutes ago, your entire firm—Sterling & Vance Acquisitions—is currently leveraged to the max on three commercial properties downtown. Properties, I might add, that sit on land owned entirely by my holding companies."
Evan swallowed hard, his throat dry. He tried to puff out his chest, attempting a pathetic display of his former corporate authority. "You... you can't just touch my company. That's illegal. There are regulations, federal audits, securities commissions—"
Victor finally looked up, his dark eyes locking onto Evan with a gaze so heavy it seemed to pin the younger man to his chair. "Regulations? Evan, let me educate you on something. Regulations are written by men who sit in rooms I built, funded by campaigns I financed, protected by attorneys whose children's college tuition I pay. You don't exist in the eyes of the law tonight, Evan. You exist only in my ledger."
Victor tapped the screen of the tablet. A moment later, the door opened and a middle-aged man in a sharp grey suit walked in, carrying a briefcase. It was Arthur Pendelton, senior partner at Pendelton & Associates—the most ruthless corporate law firm in the tri-state area, and incidentally, a firm whose primary benefactor for thirty years had been Victor Hale.
"Arthur," Victor nodded. "Is it done?"
"It is, Victor," Arthur said, placing a thick stack of printed documents on the desk. He turned to Evan with a polite, chilling smile. "Mr. Sterling, as of three minutes ago, your board of directors held an emergency virtual meeting. Unanimously, they voted to strip you of your CEO title, freeze your personal accounts, and initiate a forensic audit into your embezzlement of client trust funds."
Evan’s eyes bulged. "My... my embezzlement? I didn't embezzle anything! You framed me!"
"We didn't have to frame you, Evan," Arthur replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses. "You were skimming off the top of the Miller account for eight months. We simply forwarded the bank routing numbers to the federal prosecutor's office. An arrest warrant was signed by Judge Holloway twenty minutes ago. Federal marshals are raiding your downtown office as we speak."
Evan screamed, lunging forward in the chair, nearly tipping it over. "You ruined me! That company was my life! I built that from nothing!"
"You built it on credit I extended to your former boss, who I quietly nudged into retirement when you were still an intern," Victor said calmly, leaning back in the leather chair. "You were never a self-made man, Evan. You were a tenant living in a building I owned, wearing a suit I practically paid for."
Victor stood up slowly, buttoning his jacket. He walked over to Evan, stopping just inches from his face. The smell of expensive scotch and cedarwood radiated from the older man.
"You broke three of my daughter's ribs because she embarrassed you in public," Victor whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, deadly register. "You locked her in a dark basement like an animal. And for that, I am going to take everything you have ever loved, everything you have ever strived for, and every dollar you hope to earn until the day you die."
"What are you going to do with me?" Evan whispered, his voice finally cracking with real, unfiltered terror.
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"Nothing," Victor smiled coldly. "I'm going to let the federal government do what they do best. And when you get out of federal prison twenty years from now, you will walk out into a world where your name is mud, your degree is revoked, and you don't even have the clothes on your back."
Victor turned away, gesturing to his men. "Take him out. Pack Claire's things. We're going home."
