Chapter 2 - The Midnight AuditMy hands were still trembling slightly as I gripped the steering wheel of my SUV, but my mind was operating with terrifying clarity.
I didn't drive home to the townhouse we shared. Instead, I drove straight downtown to the glass-and-steel skyscraper housing my agency, and from there, I called the only man in the city who could dismantle the Vales’ entire world before breakfast.
“Maya?” Daniel Vance’s voice came through the phone instantly, sharp and alert despite it being past eleven o'clock at night. Daniel was my corporate attorney and family trustee, a man who treated contract law like a blood sport. “Is everything alright? You sound... different.”
“Daniel,” I said, pulling my car into the underground parking garage of my office building. “I need you to wake up your forensic accounting team right now.”
“I’m listening,” Daniel said, the sound of keyboard clicking instantly filling the background.
“I want a full, unmitigated forensic audit of every financial transfer, corporate loan, and personal expense FunnelTech Inc.—Julian’s company—has drawn from my personal accounts and my corporate subsidiary accounts over the past thirty-six months.”
There was a brief pause on the line. “Maya... are you sure? That’s going to uncover a massive amount of uncollateralized cash diversion. Are we pulling the plug?”
“We aren't just pulling the plug, Daniel,” I said, stepping out of the car and walking briskly toward the private elevator. “We’re severing every single financial artery. Cancel his corporate credit cards. Freeze the commercial line of credit I underwrote for his office lease. And notify the commercial landlord at Beacon Towers that Ashcroft Holdings is revoking the secondary guarantee on FunnelTech’s floor space effective immediately.”
Daniel let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Consider it done. What about the wedding deposits? You’ve got seventy grand sitting in the escrow account for the venue and caterers.”
“Recall the escrow funds under clause fourteen of the vendor agreement—unforeseen breach of contract due to hostile environment,” I instructed, pressing the private elevator button that required my thumbprint. “Get the money back into my account before the banks open tomorrow morning.”
“And Julian?” Daniel asked cautiously.
“Julian is about to find out what happens when a parasite bites the host that feeds it,” I said coldly. “Let’s begin.”
By 3:00 AM, the digital slaughter was complete.
Sitting behind my executive desk on the forty-second floor, watching the glittering lights of the city skyline pierce the dark, I watched email notifications flash across my monitor.
Account frozen.
Credit limit reduced to zero.
Lease default notice dispatched.
Escrow refund processed.
May you like
Julian’s entire corporate empire—built entirely on my credit score, my capital, and my silence—had just been vaporized with a few keystrokes.
And the sun hadn't even come up yet.
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