Chapter 13 - The BaitThree days later, public financial news outlets began running frantic reports.
An anonymous source leaked documents claiming that Arthur Miller—the reclusive founder whose home burned down under mysterious circumstances—was liquidating his remaining offshore accounts and preparing to flee the country.
The bait was set.
I sat inside a dimly lit private office in the city, watching the financial news ticker flash across a wall-mounted monitor. The door opened, and Marcus stepped in, closing it securely behind him.
"Richard took the bait," Marcus said, tossing a set of encrypted printouts onto the desk. "He just filed an emergency motion to freeze your primary coastal property and obtained an immediate warrant to seize all remaining physical assets under suspicion of flight."
"And the judge?" I asked.
"A corrupt magistrate on Julian's old payroll," Marcus replied with a grim smile. "Richard is coming here tonight with court officers to execute the seizure in person. He thinks he's catching you with your bags packed."
"Let him come," I said, leaning back in my leather chair.
As the clock ticked toward midnight, the heavy oak doors of the office swung open. Richard Vance strode into the room, flanked by two private security guards and a local bailiff carrying an official-looking briefcase.
May you like
Richard wore an arrogant smirk that reminded me entirely too much of his uncle Julian.
"Well, well, well, Arthur," Richard sneered, stopping in the center of the room. "Running away before you can face justice? Game over, old man. Sign over the deed and the trust fund codes right now, or you spend the rest of your days awaiting trial in a federal holding cell."
