Chapter 3 - The Frozen Realm
By noon, the grand estate on the hill was dead silent once again.
The police cruisers had long since departed, taking Ethan straight to the county jail's maximum-security holding unit. Beatrice had been escorted off the property by private security guards I had hired three hours prior, carrying only two small suitcases containing her personal garments. Her luxury sports car—which had been leased under my trust's corporate credit line—had been towed away forty-five minutes after her departure.
I sat in the high-backed leather chair inside the master study, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the rain washing over the pine trees outside.
On the desk sat a hot mug of real Arabica coffee, its steam rising quietly into the warm room.
Victor walked into the study, carrying two crystal glasses and a bottle of twenty-year-old scotch. He set a glass down beside my coffee, pulling up a chair opposite me.
"The forensic accountants just finished their preliminary sweep of Sterling Logistics," Victor reported, pouring two fingers of dark amber liquor. "Ethan was deeper in the hole than we thought, Clara. He owed four million dollars to a private hard-money lender in Chicago."
I raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of my coffee. "Who was the lender?"
"Julian Vance," Victor answered, his jaw tightening. "Our second cousin."
I froze, the porcelain cup lingering near my lips. "Julian? Ethan was borrowing money from Julian?"
"Julian knew who Ethan was married to, Clara," Victor explained, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Julian used Ethan’s greed to slowly siphon assets out of your trust. Ethan thought he was being a big-shot entrepreneur, taking out commercial loans against this house. He didn't realize Julian was setting him up to default so Julian could force a judicial foreclosure on the Vance family trust assets."
A cold, bitter laugh escaped my throat. "So Ethan wasn't just beating me... he was selling my inheritance out from under me to my own corrupt cousin."
"Julian didn't know you had installed the hidden surveillance grid six months ago," Victor said, a proud, sharp smile touching his lips. "He thought you were still the quiet, timid little sister who withdrew from the family business after Mom died."
"I withdrew from the business because I wanted peace, Victor," I murmured, staring into the dark amber liquid in my glass. "I thought Ethan was a simple, honest man who loved me for who I was. I gave up my title, my position, and my reputation just to live a quiet life as his wife."
"And he mistook your kindness for weakness," Victor said softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "Just like Julian did."
I set my coffee cup down and picked up the glass of scotch, the amber liquid catching the gray light from the window.
"Where is Julian right now?" I asked flatly.
"He’s hosting a private celebration at the Lakefront Country Club in downtown Chicago," Victor revealed. "He thinks Ethan’s arrest is going to force you to sell the estate at a discount to cover Ethan’s corporate debts. He’s already drafted the purchase agreement."
I stood up from the desk, smoothing down the lapels of my black silk suit, my expression transforming from the wounded wife into the ruthless strategist who had helped build Vance International ten years ago.
"Call Arthur Sterling," I instructed Victor, my voice dropping into an icy, unyielding register. "Tell him to initiate a total margin call on every credit line Julian Vance holds with Sterling Global Wealth. Then tell Evelyn to prepare a secondary indictment."
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Victor grinned—a fierce, terrifying expression that ran deep in our family blood. "And what are you going to do, little sister?"
"I'm going to pay Julian a visit at his country club," I replied, pulling my heavy cashmere overcoat from the door rack. "It’s time to remind the Vance family why no one ever steals from Clara."
