Chapter 8 - The Traitor’s Den
Three days later, the trap began to snap shut.
Thanks to Marcus’s legal maneuvering, the State Attorney General’s Financial Crimes Unit had fast-tracked the investigation. Because the case involved a non-bank financial institution, state line wire transfers, and forged notary seals, it fell squarely under felony enterprise corruption.
I was sitting in Marcus’s office on Friday afternoon when his phone rang. He put it on speaker.
"Marcus, it’s Investigator Miller from the AG’s office," a crisp male voice spoke through the speaker. "We just executed three simultaneous search warrants."
I leaned in closer to the phone. "Where?"
"First, at Austin Vance’s apartment in Jersey City," Investigator Miller reported. "And let me tell you, Mrs. Vance, your brother-in-law wasn't living like a broke day trader."
"What did you find?" Marcus asked.
"A brand-new 2026 Porsche 911 Turbo parked in the subterranean garage—purchased in cash four months ago using funds traced directly from the Apex Capital loan disbursement," Miller said. "We also seized three high-end luxury watches, a hardware cryptocurrency cold wallet containing approximately eighty thousand dollars in Ethereum, and thirty thousand dollars in physical cash hidden inside a hollowed-out speaker cabinet."
I let out a long breath. "So he didn't lose all the money in crypto."
"Not even half of it," Miller chuckled darkly. "He used the 'crypto loss' story as a cover to siphon off the loan money into hard luxury assets and private accounts before the ship sank. It was a classic asset-stripping scheme."
"What about the other two warrants?" Marcus pressed.
"Second warrant was executed at Bernice Vance’s residence. We recovered sixty thousand dollars in cashier's checks drawn from Austin’s account, along with a safe deposit box key hidden in her mattress. Inside the safe deposit box at City National Bank, we found forty thousand dollars in gold bullion."
My eyes widened in disgust. Bernice had sat at my dining table four nights ago, weeping that she needed my money for "medications," while sitting on forty thousand dollars in physical gold bullion stolen from my home’s equity.
"And Keaton?" I asked.
"Third warrant was executed at his office," Miller said. "He attempted to shred several personal bank transfer receipts when our agents walked through the door. He was arrested on the spot for obstruction of justice, felony grand larceny, deed fraud, and forgery. Austin and Bernice are currently in custody at the Manhattan Central Booking facility."
The room went completely quiet.
"Can they make bail?" Marcus asked.
"Bail was set at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars cash for each of them," Miller replied. "And since all their known bank accounts and physical assets have been frozen under civil forfeiture warrants, they aren't going anywhere anytime soon."
I leaned back in my chair, staring out the high-rise window at the sprawling Manhattan skyline.
One week ago, I was a woman exhausted by seven years of non-stop labor, sitting at a table eating cold instant noodles while my husband and his family planned how to devour my newly earned twelve-thousand-dollar salary.
Today, they were sitting in cold concrete jail cells, waiting for felony indictments, while their stolen luxury parade was dismantled piece by piece.
May you like
"Thank you, Investigator Miller," I said softly into the phone.
"You’re welcome, Mrs. Vance. A court hearing for the emergency stay on your apartment foreclosure is set for Monday morning. With these criminal indictments in hand, Judge Harrison will wipe that Apex Capital lien off your title before noon."
