Chapter 12 - Wolves at the Gate
News of the federal indictments spread through Wall Street like wildfire. Investors who had blindly trusted Bennett-Hale Holdings rushed to pull their capital out, triggering a historic market crash for any remaining subsidiary stocks.
The creditors didn't even wait for bankruptcy court to formally open. They swarmed the sprawling Madison Avenue mansion like locusts before noon, tagging antique furniture, priceless paintings, and imported Persian rugs with fluorescent seizure stickers.
I watched the chaos unfold from the security monitors in Daniel’s penthouse, sipping my morning coffee in absolute peace.
“Look at them,” I murmured, watching movers carry my mother’s favorite Louis XIV writing desk out the front doors of the mansion. “They spent thirty years pretending they were royalty, and now they’re being auctioned off to the highest bidder on liquidation day.”
Daniel walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Power built on sand always collapses when the tide comes in, Claire. Your father thought his money made him immune to the consequences of his actions.”
“He’s going to spend his trial staring at blank prison walls,” I said softly. “And Aunt Evelyn?”
“Evelyn signed the cooperation agreement this morning,” Daniel replied. “In exchange for handing over the secondary Cayman accounts and testifying against your father’s co-conspirators, her personal properties have been fully exempted from the RICO seizures.”
“Smart woman,” I noted. “She always knew when to jump off a sinking ship.”
My phone buzzed on the kitchen island. It was an unknown number with a local area code. I swiped to answer.
“Miss Bennett?” a sharp, unfamiliar voice asked. “This is Warden Miller from the Metropolitan Correctional Center. Your father is requesting an immediate, unrecorded prison visit. He says he has something important to tell you about your mother’s inheritance.”
I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Tell Richard Bennett that his inheritance is currently being auctioned off to pay off his corporate debts. And I don't visit prisoners.”
I hung up the call immediately, blocking the number without a second thought.
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Daniel squeezed my waist approvingly. “Good girl.”
“Let’s go shopping,” I said, turning around in his embrace and smiling brightly. “I need a completely new wardrobe for my coronation as CEO of Sterling-Hale Holdings.”
