Chapter 3 - The Panic Sets In
By 9:00 PM, the champagne had turned sour.
I was sitting in a luxury suite on the top floor of the Grand Plaza Hotel, wrapped in a plush bathrobe, sipping hot chamomile tea while reviewing real-time analytics on my laptop.
Daniel’s phone was ringing continuously. I didn't answer.
Down at the lake house, absolute chaos had erupted. According to the internal bank logs and alerts from the smart-home security cameras I still had administrator access to, Daniel had tried to transfer five thousand dollars to cover an emergency payroll check, only to be met with a hard lock screen.
Then came Vanessa’s panic. Her boutique’s operating account—funded entirely by the trust—had bounced its commercial rent check. The landlord had already slapped an eviction notice on the boutique’s glass front door.
My phone buzzed with a text from Daniel: Mom, what did you do? The business accounts are frozen. The bank says there’s a federal-level trust hold on everything! Answer your phone!
I waited ten minutes before replying.
It’s cold out here, Daniel. Accounts tend to freeze when temperatures drop below freezing.
A minute later, my phone lit up with an incoming video call. I accepted it.
Daniel’s face filled the screen, pale, sweating, and entirely devoid of arrogance. Behind him, Vanessa was frantically tapping on her tablet, her face twisted in absolute horror.
“What is this?” Daniel roared, his voice cracking. “You locked our accounts? You can’t do that! That money belongs to the trust! I’m taking care of your grandchildren’s college funds!”
“You mean the funds I established with my own inheritance before I even married your father?” I asked calmly, taking a slow sip of tea. “The funds where I retain absolute discretionary veto power as sole trustee?”
Vanessa shoved her way into the camera frame, her eyes bulging. “You old witch! You put us into default! The bank is demanding immediate repayment of the home equity line of credit! They’re saying there’s an active fraud investigation flagged on the deed transfer!”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “A fraud investigation? Fancy that. Someone must have forged my signature. After all, I never signed away my home. It’s almost as if a crime was committed on my front porch.”
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Daniel froze. The color drained completely from his face. “You... you know?”
“I always know when someone is trying to steal from me, Daniel,” I said softly. “And tomorrow morning, we’re going to let the district attorney know as well.”
