Chapter 9 - The Vance Empire Collapses
Richard Vance looked like he was about to suffer a stroke.
“Whitaker! You can’t do this!” Richard roared, charging up the stage steps. “I have contracts signed with the city! I have twenty million dollars in credit lines tied to this pier!”
Noah turned slowly, his silver-gray eyes fixing on Richard Vance with lethal intensity.
“Your credit lines were backed by the First Pacific Commercial Bank,” Noah said in a low, terrifying voice. “Whitaker Financial acquired that bank at four o'clock this afternoon. Your loans have been called in for immediate repayment due to material fraud and contract invalidation.”
Richard Vance staggered backward, his hands grasping at his chest. “You... you bought my bank?”
“By tomorrow morning,” Noah continued, “every shipping container bearing the Vance logo will be barred from docking at any port on the West Coast. Your logistics network is finished, Richard. You chose to back a thief, and now you will share his grave.”
Vanessa shrieked, turning on Grant like a rabid animal.
“You idiot!” Vanessa screamed, slapping Grant across the face with all her strength in front of five hundred people and dozens of rolling cameras. “You told me you owned the blueprints! You told me she was nobody! You ruined my family!”
“Vanessa, please!” Grant begged, his nose bleeding from her diamond ring, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. “I did it for us! We can still fix this!”
“Get away from me, you pathetic loser!” Vanessa cried, shoving him to the floor.
Before Grant could stand up, four uniformed officers from the Seattle Police Department, led by Detective Miller, marched up onto the stage.
“Grant Lawson,” Detective Miller announced, unclipping a pair of steel handcuffs. “You are under arrest for first-degree corporate fraud, grand larceny, and criminal identity theft. You have the right to remain silent.”
The cold steel snapped around Grant’s wrists.
The sound echoed through the silent room like the final toll of a funeral bell.
Grant looked up from the stage floor, staring at me with desperate, pleading eyes. “Emma! Please! Think of Lily! I’m her father! You can’t let them send me to prison! Tell them to stop!”
I looked down at the man I had once thought I would spend my life with. I felt no anger. I felt no hatred.
I only felt an overwhelming, liberating emptiness.
“You stopped being her father the moment you chose your leather seats, Grant,” I said quietly.
Detective Miller hauled Grant to his feet and dragged him off the stage, his pathetic sobs fading down the hallway as the press swarmed him with flashing cameras.
Vanessa Vance attempted to slip out through the side exit, but two federal tax auditors were already waiting for her by the door, serving her with immediate subpoenas for corporate conspiracy and money laundering.
The Vance empire had fallen in less than thirty minutes.
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Noah turned to me, offering his arm once again. “Shall we go home, Ms. Lawson?”
I smiled, slipping my hand into his. “Yes, Noah. Let’s go home to Lily.”
