Chapter 8 - The Twist of the CenturyThe security guards didn't move.
Instead, a loud, heavy chime echoed through the boardroom's integrated sound system. Ding-dong.
A deep, automated robotic voice filtered through the ceiling speakers: "Wire transfer complete. Fifty million USD successfully routed to primary beneficiary account: Clara Vance."
Victoria froze mid-celebration. Her arms dropped to her sides, her jaw unhinging in sheer horror. "What?! That's impossible! The key! She didn't have the key! The time ran out!"
Arthur Sterling slowly stood up, smoothing the front of his Tom Ford suit. He walked over to the table, picked up the brass key, and tossed it casually into the air, catching it effortlessly.
"Did you really think Alistair Vance—the most paranoid, brilliant, and ruthless financial genius of the 21st century—would leave his entire legacy protected by a single piece of brass that could be stolen by a common street thug?" Arthur asked, his voice dripping with icy sarcasm.
Victoria stared at him, her face turning chalk white. "What are you talking about..."
Arthur pressed a small remote control on the wall. The massive projection screen behind the conference table flickered to life. It displayed high-definition security footage from the alleyway behind Clara’s apartment building the previous night.
The video showed the exact moment the masked intruder broke through the window, wrestled with Clara, and snatched the chain from her neck. But then, the camera angle zoomed in.
The intruder wasn't a random street thug. His face was clearly visible beneath his hoodie. It was Greg, Victoria’s head of private security.
Even worse, the video showed Greg pulling the key out of his pocket a block away, handing it directly to Victoria, who was waiting in the backseat of a black Maybach.
The boardroom went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop on the carpet.
Victoria staggered backward, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes darting frantically toward her lawyers, who were already slowly backing away from her like she carried the plague.
"That... that's a deep fake! That's illegal surveillance!" Victoria screamed, her voice cracking into a hysterical shriek. "You set me up!"
"We didn't have to set you up, Victoria," Arthur said coldly. "You walked right into the trap. Section 4, Paragraph C of Alistair’s will didn't state that losing the key forfeits the trust... it stated that anyone attempting to unlawfully acquire, steal, or tamper with the verification tokens within ten years of issuance immediately forfeits all biological claims to the Vance estate, and triggers an automatic federal investigation for corporate conspiracy and grand larceny."
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Arthur pulled a second, thick manila folder from beneath his desk and dropped it squarely in front of Victoria's lawyers.
"Federal marshals are waiting in the lobby downstairs with an arrest warrant for you and your co-conspirators, Miss Vance. Attempted extortion, breaking and entering, wire fraud, and conspiracy. You’re looking at twenty years minimum."
