Chapter 4 - The Predator’s Counter-AttackBy Friday morning, the digital front pages of every financial journal and local newspaper in Washington state were burning with a single scandalous headline: MARITIME TYCOON DAMIEN CROSS FACES EMERGENCY ASSET FREEZE AMID FRAUD ALLEGATIONS.
Inside a sleek, glass-walled conference room on the top floor of the Port Alder Financial Center, Damien Cross slammed his fist down onto the polished oak table so hard that the porcelain coffee cups rattled.
“Find who authorized this!” Damien roared at his lead corporate attorney, Arthur Vance (no relation to Julian, but equally corrupt). “It’s a temporary injunction! A preliminary restraining order! We can overturn it by this afternoon if we file a countersuit claiming spousal abandonment and financial manipulation!”
Arthur pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, looking profoundly uncomfortable as he tapped frantically on his tablet. “Mr. Cross... you don't understand the scope of what’s happening. It’s not just a civil injunction. The federal grand jury has just issued a subpoena regarding the diversion of Whitmore Children’s Trust funds into offshore accounts registered under Sienna’s consulting firm.”
Damien froze, the color draining entirely from his face. “That... that was protected. Those accounts were clean.”
“They were clean until Claire Whitmore’s legal team walked into the State Attorney General’s office yesterday at midnight with a complete forensic audit,” Arthur said bluntly. “She didn't just freeze your assets, Damien. She handed the prosecutors a silver platter containing five years of your shadow transactions.”
Sienna sat in the corner of the conference room, wrapped in a blanket, her face pale and devoid of makeup. The designer dress from two nights ago was gone, replaced by damp, wrinkled clothing. “Damien... you said her family wouldn't find out. You said the Whitmores were weak!”
“Shut up, Sienna!” Damien snapped, turning on her like a cornered animal. “If you hadn't insisted on wearing those damn pearls to the house, none of this would have happened!”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault?!” Sienna shrieked, standing up so fast her chair crashed backward onto the floor. “You told me your wife was a ghost who never left her bedroom! You told me you controlled everything!”
Before Damien could lunge across the table at her, the heavy glass doors of the conference room swung open with a sharp click.
Two men in dark federal suits stepped inside, badges gleaming in the fluorescent office lighting.
“Mr. Damien Cross?” the lead agent asked smoothly. “You need to come with us. We have a warrant for your arrest on charges of wire fraud, embezzlement, and conspiracy.”
Damien stared at the silver handcuffs dangling from the agent’s hand. For the first time in his life, the impenetrable wall of wealth, power, and intimidation crumbled completely. He looked back at his lawyer, but Arthur had already stood up, backing away toward the door with his briefcase in hand.
“I want my attorney present,” Damien choked out, his voice cracking.
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“You can talk to all the attorneys you want down at the federal holding facility,” the agent replied, stepping forward and grabbing Damien by both shoulders.
As they forced him down into the chair to snap the cuffs around his wrists, Damien caught his reflection in the dark glass of the panoramic window, watching the rain pour down over the city he thought he ruled.
