Chapter 3 - The Silent Asset
Marcus Vance picked up on the third ring. His deep, gravelly voice sounded instantly alert, despite it being past midnight.
"Sloan? It's late. Is everything all right? Is Mave okay?" Marcus asked. He knew us well; Declan and I had quietly funded his firm's expansion years ago under strict confidentiality agreements.
"Mave is out of surgery. She has a fractured arm, severe bruising, and a concussion," I said, my tone ice-cold. "Marcus, I need you to initiate a total legal and financial sweep. I want every single corporate asset, loan, lien, and pre-existing legal liability involving Blythe Sinclair, my mother Eleanor Sinclair, and Vesper Vance brought to my desk by sunrise."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Sloan... what happened?"
"Attempted murder disguised as an accident. And I have audio proof," I said, transmitting the audio file from Declan's phone straight to Marcus's encrypted legal portal. "Listen to that file. Then tell me how fast we can dismantle every single financial lifeline keeping my sister's lavish lifestyle afloat."
A pause stretched on the line as Marcus played the audio. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with a chilling professional thrill.
"My God. This isn't just a family dispute, Sloan. This is aggravated felonious assault. With this audio, we can secure an immediate arrest warrant for Blythe before she leaves the hospital premises," Marcus said rapidly. "And regarding her finances... as you know, I handle the corporate audits for several major firms in the city. Including Montgomery Holdings—the conglomerate owned by Cashin Montgomery, the man your sister is marrying next weekend."
My eyebrows arched. "Go on."
"Cashin Montgomery’s family prides themselves on immaculate corporate governance and family reputation. Furthermore, Blythe’s extravagant wedding is being funded almost entirely through a bridging loan backed by corporate assets she claims she will inherit from your mother. But your mother’s estate is heavily leveraged, and guess who holds the underlying mortgage on their family estate?" Marcus chuckled darkly. "Apex Logistics Holdings. You do, Sloan."
I felt a dark, bitter smile touch my lips. "Explain."
"Your mother refinanced the ancestral home three years ago to pay off Blythe's first failed boutique venture. The debt was quietly bought up by one of Apex’s shell investment arms. The note comes due in exactly seventy-two hours. If we foreclose immediately, your family won't just be embarrassed at a wedding—they will be legally homeless before the reception can even be catered."
"Do it," I commanded. "Foreclose on the house. Freeze every corporate account tied to Blythe's wedding planner, her caterer, and her bridal boutique. I want every single vendor calling her phone by nine o'clock tomorrow morning demanding cash payment."
"Consider it done, CEO Sloan. I'll have our litigation team assemble the criminal charges and civil asset freezing orders right now. By morning, your sister's golden castle won't just have cracks—it will be reduced to dust."
May you like
I hung up the phone and looked back at Declan. He gave me a slow, approving nod.
"Let's go back inside," I said, adjusting my coat. "Mave is waking up. And after she's settled, it's time to pay a little visit to the waiting room where my dear mother and sister are undoubtedly wondering why no one is catering to their convenience."
