Chapter 5 - THE PHANTOM INVESTOR
By noon, Liam’s corporate email had been deactivated. His keycard no longer registered at the turnstiles of Madison Avenue. He stood on the sidewalk in the crisp autumn air, watching couriers carry boxes of his personal belongings out to the curb.
His phone rang incessantly. It was Khloe, screaming that her modeling agency had just dropped her from the upcoming Milan campaign because brands didn't want to touch the PR disaster of the Plaza ballroom.
Liam ignored her. He dialed the direct cell number of every billionaire investor, tech mogul, and venture capitalist he had played golf with in the Hamptons over the last three years.
Not a single one picked up.
Desperate, he drove his car downtown to a discreet private members' club in Tribeca where the city's real power brokers gathered. He walked straight to the corner booth where Viktor Vance—no relation to Marcus, but a ruthless Russian-American venture capitalist who owned half of Manhattan real estate—was sipping scotch alone.
"Viktor," Liam said, sliding uninvited into the leather booth. "We need to talk. Hayes Vision is experiencing a temporary liquidity crisis. If you inject ten million right now, I can buy out the IP rights from my ex-wife and—"
Viktor didn't look up from his glass. He slowly swirled the golden liquid, watching the ice cube strike the crystal rim.
"Your ex-wife doesn't want to sell, Liam," Viktor interrupted smoothly.
Liam froze. "What are you talking about? You've never even met Olivia."
Viktor finally raised his pale blue eyes, a thin, amused smile playing on his lips.
"I met her this morning at nine o'clock," Viktor said. "In this very building. In fact, she booked the penthouse suite upstairs—the one you tried to buy last year and couldn't afford without taking on high-interest debt."
Liam’s chest tightened as if an invisible hand was squeezing his ribs. "You... you met Olivia? What did she want?"
"She didn't want anything," Viktor chuckled softly. "She already owns it. Do you know who backed OC Holdings when she filed her initial patent filings three years ago, long before Hayes Vision ever saw venture capital? Who do you think financed the legal infrastructure that locked down those patents?"
Liam shook his head, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. "No... no, we had nothing. We were broke in Queens."
"You were broke, Liam," Viktor corrected him, leaning forward. "She had a trust. A very quiet, very old trust from her maternal grandfather that she never touched because she wanted to see if you could build something on your own merit. When you cheated on her, traded her in for a twenty-five-year-old model, and kicked her onto the street with a condescending speech about outgrowing her... you didn't just break a marriage. You woke up a sleeping giant."
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Viktor stood up, tossing a hundred-dollar bill onto the table to pay for his untouched scotch. He patted Liam on the shoulder with patronizing sympathy.
"She’s not hostile, Liam. She’s just systematic. Good luck finding a lawyer who will take your case against her. Every top litigator in New York is already on her retainer."
