Chapter 1 - The Hidden Account
The heavy glass door of the manager's office clicked shut behind me.
David Callahan stood completely frozen near his large mahogany desk.
He did not look like a professional bank manager handling a routine holiday deposit.
He looked like a man who had just witnessed a terrifying ghost.
"Is there a problem with the check?" I asked while my hands trembled slightly.
David slowly walked around his desk and stared at me.
He picked up the piece of paper as if it might spontaneously catch fire in his hands.
"Claire, this check is entirely real," he whispered softly.
I let out a long breath that I didn't even know I was holding.
Five million dollars was actually real.
My miserable life of struggling to pay rent in Denver was finally over.
"But we have a massive problem," David continued while his tone dropped even lower.
He turned his computer monitor so I could see the glowing screen.
"This routing number does not belong to your grandmother's personal checking account."
I squinted at the complex string of numbers on the digital display.
"Then whose account is it?" I asked in pure confusion.
David swallowed hard and pointed a shaking finger to the primary account holder's name.
The name on the screen was Richard Whitaker.
It was my father.
"Your grandmother somehow bypassed our highest security protocols to draft this directly from his hidden offshore trust."
I stared at him in complete and utter disbelief.
My father always claimed he was a self-made man who built his real estate empire from absolutely nothing.
He had always told me Grandma was just a crazy old woman living off his generous charity.
"If I cash this check today, he will know immediately, won't he?" I asked with a dry throat.
David nodded grimly and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
"He won't just know about it," David said while typing something quickly on his keyboard.
"An automatic security alert was triggered the absolute moment I scanned the routing code into the system."
A loud and blaring alarm suddenly echoed through the bank lobby outside the glass office.
Heavy and aggressive footsteps rushed toward our closed door.
May you like
David looked at me with sheer panic burning in his eyes.
"They are already here to stop you."
