Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
My father stormed over, his face purple with rage. "You ungrateful brat. We are hosting the most important investors of our lives tonight. Security!" he bellowed.
Two burly security guards began to approach, but Vance stepped smoothly out of the shadows, flanked by four federal agents in sharp suits. The music scratched to a halt. The ballroom plunged into a dead, terrifying silence.
"Mr. Hawthorne," Vance said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. "I am Arthur Vance. Lead counsel for Apex Zenith Capital. I believe you are familiar with our firm."
My father’s arrogance instantly dissolved into confusion, then panic. "Apex? Yes, of course, Mr. Vance. But... what is the meaning of this? Why are you with my estranged daughter?"
"Because," Vance said, pulling a thick stack of legal documents from his briefcase, "she is not just your daughter. Sarah Hawthorne is the sole founder, CEO, and majority shareholder of Apex Zenith Capital. The entity that currently owns every single asset to your name."
The color drained from my mother’s face. She looked like she was going to be sick.
Julian let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "That's impossible. She’s a broke grunt. She was begging us for eight grand a few months ago!"
"I was," I said, stepping closer to Julian. The silence in the room was so absolute you could hear the ice melting in the glasses. "I was begging for eight thousand dollars to save my arm. The arm I used to defend this country. The arm I am currently using to hold the deed to your house."
I turned my gaze to my father, who was trembling, his mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.
"You used my grandfather's survivor trust as collateral for his Porsche," I stated. It wasn't a question. It was an executioner's drop.
The guests in the ballroom gasped. The senator my mother had been laughing with physically took a step back, distancing himself from the toxicity.
"Sarah, please," my mother stammered, her hands shaking so badly she dropped her champagne flute. It shattered on the marble floor. Crash. "We... we were going to pay it back! The bridge loan was supposed to save us!"
"The bridge loan you signed yesterday?" I asked, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "The one with the morality clause? The one that triggers immediate default in the event of federal fraud investigations?"
May you like
I nodded to the federal agents.
"Richard and Eleanor Hawthorne," the lead agent said, stepping forward with a pair of handcuffs. "You are under arrest for wire fraud, identity theft, and embezzlement."
