Chapter 4 - The Freeze-Out
By morning, the war had officially begun.
Julian walked into the marble lobby of his private bank in Manhattan, intending to withdraw emergency funds to set Claire and Toby up in a safe hotel. But when he slid his platinum card across the mahogany desk, the teller’s face went pale.
"Mr. Vance... I'm sorry, sir. Your accounts are frozen."
Julian’s jaw tightened. "Frozen? By whose authority?"
"By the executor of the Vanguard Family Trust," a cold, familiar voice echoed through the lobby.
Julian turned. Beatrice stood by the entrance, flanked by two towering security guards and a team of corporate lawyers. She wore a tailored charcoal suit, looking entirely unbothered by the spectacle she had caused the night before.
"You walked away from the family, Julian," Beatrice said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Which means you walk away from the money. The cars, the penthouse, the offshore accounts. They belong to the trust. And as long as you are fraternizing with that waitress, you don't get a dime."
"You forged legal documents to steal my son from his mother, Beatrice," Julian snarled, stepping toward her. The guards immediately blocked his path. "That's a federal crime."
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"Prove it," Beatrice smiled, a terrifying, razor-thin line. "You have no money to hire a lawyer. You have no home. Victoria and I have already released a statement to the press that you suffered a psychiatric break at the altar. No one will believe a word you say."
Beatrice turned on her heel and walked out. Julian stood in the lobby, penniless, stripped of his power. He had nothing left. Except the truth.
