Chapter 4 - The Frozen Accounts
The freezing rain of New York City lashed against the glass facade of Castillo Holdings, mirroring the absolute storm raging inside the executive suite on the forty-second floor.
Adrian Castillo stood before the panoramic window, his designer suit rumpled, his hair disheveled, and his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. The grand office that had once symbolized his absolute dominion over the Manhattan real estate market now felt like a concrete tomb.
The heavy mahogany door burst open without a knock.
It wasn't his secretary. It was Arthur Vance, Julian's uncle and the primary institutional investor of Castillo Holdings, accompanied by two stern-faced corporate attorneys.
"Adrian," Arthur said, his voice like grinding stones. "Sit down. We're done playing games."
Adrian turned slowly, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. "Arthur, you can't do this. I founded this company! My blood, sweat, and vision built these towers!"
"Your vision?" Arthur scoffed, tossing a thick binder onto the polished mahogany desk. "Your vision was an illusion funded by Elena's inheritance and propped up by my nephew's capital. And now? As of 8:00 AM this morning, the board has convened an emergency session."
Arthur stepped closer, leaning over the desk with a predatory smirk.
"Not only has Julian exposed your total incompetence regarding the company's equity distribution, but a comprehensive financial audit has just revealed something catastrophic."
Adrian’s breath hitched. "What audit?"
"The one initiated by Marcus Dawson on behalf of your ex-wife," Arthur replied smoothly. "It turns out that when you signed the divorce settlement without reading the financial provisions, you didn't just forfeit your personal assets. You legally transferred your remaining controlling stake in Castillo Holdings to Elena Salazar as a 'retroactive marital debt settlement.'"
Adrian staggered forward, slamming his palms onto the desk. "That's impossible! The lawyer said it was just standard paperwork!"
"Your lawyer was working for Dawson for the past three months," Arthur stated coldly. "Elena owns fifty-one percent of the voting shares. She is now the majority shareholder of Castillo Holdings. Furthermore, every corporate account, reserve fund, and line of credit linked to your name has been legally frozen under suspicion of corporate fraud and asset misappropriation."
Adrian’s knees buckled. He dropped heavily into his leather executive chair, staring blankly at the desk.
"Frozen..." he whispered. "All of it?"
"Every last cent," Arthur confirmed, turning toward the door. "By tomorrow morning, the locks on this floor will be changed, and your name will be stripped from the building lobby. Good luck paying your mistress, Adrian. You're a beggar in a tailored suit."
The door clicked shut, leaving Adrian alone in the suffocating silence.
His phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up with trembling fingers. It was a text message from an unknown number:
May you like
"How is the view from the top, Adrian? Hope you saved some of that champagne. - E."
Adrian let out a guttural cry of pure rage, hurling his phone against the glass window. The screen shattered into a thousand tiny webs, reflecting his utterly ruined reflection.
