Chapter 8 - The Negotiation
At four o'clock the following afternoon, the storm over Manhattan reached its peak. Heavy rain rattled against the windows of the private dining room on the top floor of The Grand Central Club.
Viktor Vane sat at the center of a long mahogany table, cutting into a rare steak with a heavy silver knife. Two of his massive bodyguards stood behind his chair like statues.
Larkin and I sat across from him. I wore a tailored ivory suit with dark buttons—sharp, professional, and elegant.
"You're asking me to execute an emergency freeze on a rival's clearinghouse account, Steves," Viktor grunted, chewing his food slowly. "That's an act of war. Julian will come after my docks."
"Julian won't have docks by six o'clock today, Mr. Vane," I spoke up, my voice calm and completely commanding.
Viktor set his knife down, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin as he looked at me. "The secretary speaks again. Tell me, young lady, why should I take a risk on your math?"
I opened a leather folder and slid a single sheet of paper across the table.
"Because Julian Vance has been quietly buying up the secondary mortgages on your private estate in Long Island," I said smoothly. "If he successfully framed Larkin today, his next move was to foreclose on your residence by next Tuesday."
Viktor’s face turned deep purple. He grabbed the paper, his eyes scanning the property transfer records I had unearthed at three in the morning.
"That slimy little bastard..." Viktor growled, his hand crushing the paper into a ball.
"Authorize the clearinghouse freeze, Viktor," Larkin said, leaning forward, his voice dripping with authority. "You get Julian's concrete monopoly, I take his shipping routes, and Penelope clears your estate debt entirely."
Viktor looked at the paper, then at Larkin, and finally at me.
"She cleared my debt?" Viktor asked, surprised.
"She restructures everything she touches," Larkin said proudly. "Do we have a deal?"
Viktor slammed his heavy fist onto the table. "Sign the authorization, bring me the clearinghouse pad!"
His assistant stepped forward immediately, handing Viktor an encrypted digital signature pad. Viktor typed in his master key and pressed ENTER.
On my laptop screen, a green progress bar flickered: Zurich Clearinghouse Hold Applied. Assets Frozen.
"It's done," I announced, closing my laptop with a satisfying click.
At that exact moment, the heavy oak doors of the private dining room burst open.
Julian Vance walked in, drenched in rain, surrounded by four frantic attorneys holding briefcase phones. His face was twisted in absolute terror and rage.
"Steves!" Julian screamed, his voice echoing through the restaurant. "What did you do to my accounts?! My bank in Zurich just canceled my credit line!"
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Larkin stood up slowly, adjusting his suit jacket, his expression completely unbothered.
"Hello, Julian," Larkin said coldly. "You're late for lunch."
