Chapter 7 - Freezing Assets
By Tuesday afternoon, the shockwaves of Vantage Lenders' legal offensive began tearing through Richard Hayes’s empire like a Category 5 hurricane.
I sat in the mahogany-paneled boardroom of Vance, Sterling & Croft on the fortieth floor of the city’s financial district. Around the table sat four forensic accountants, two banking specialists, and Jonathan Vance.
“The legal mechanisms are moving faster than they anticipated,” Vance said, projecting an asset flow chart onto the wall screen. “Richard Hayes attempted to liquidate his corporate treasury accounts at First National yesterday morning to move funds offshore. However, because Hayes Logistics had pledged its active accounts receivable as secondary collateral for the Vantage bridge loan, our freeze order was already in place.”
One of the forensic accountants, a sharp woman named Sarah, tapped her laptop.
“Richard’s payroll account is locked. Hayes Logistics cannot pay its drivers or fuel suppliers on Friday. Furthermore, we audited Chloe Hayes’s vehicle registrations. Her matte-gray Mercedes G-Wagon is leased under Hayes Logistics’ commercial fleet account. That lease is four months past due.”
“What are the repossession parameters?” I asked.
“The leasing company has already dispatched spotters,” Sarah replied with a thin smile. “The vehicle is flagged for immediate recovery.”
“And Chloe’s personal assets?”
“Virtually nonexistent,” Vance said, shaking his head in mild disgust. “She has two hundred thousand followers on social media, but her lifestyle was entirely subsidized by her father’s company credit card. She has sixty thousand dollars in designer handbag debt, forty thousand in unpaid cosmetic clinic bills, and her influencer income barely covers her hair extensions. She is an empty shell wrapped in luxury labels.”
At that moment, Vance’s secretary hurried into the boardroom, carrying an iPad.
“Mr. Vance, Mrs. Miller,” she said breathlessly. “You need to see this. Chloe Hayes just went live on Instagram.”
Vance nodded, and the secretary synced the tablet to the main display.
Chloe’s tear-stained face appeared on the large screen. She was sitting on the plush white carpet of her Highland Ridge bedroom, her mascara streaked dramatically down her cheeks. She was clutching a white silk pillow, sobbing with practiced theatricality.
*“...I never wanted to bring family drama to the public,”* Chloe wept into her camera, her voice trembling. *“But my family is under attack. My older sister, Clara... she lost her husband and kids six months ago, and we have done nothing but love and support her through every single step. But she has become completely consumed by jealousy. She found some loophole with an estranged inheritance, and now she is using ruthless, predatory lenders to take my home away. She showed up at my housewarming party with armed thugs! She wants to put me on the street because she can’t stand to see anyone else happy!”*
Comments flooded the bottom of the screen at blinding speed:
*“OMG what a monster!”*
*“Cancel her!”*
*“How could a sister do that after losing her own family?!”*
*“Sue her into the ground, Chloe! We stand with you!”*
Vance reached for the remote to turn it off, but I held up a hand.
“Let her speak,” I said quietly. “Let her tell the world whatever she wants.”
“Mrs. Miller,” Vance cautioned. “Public sentiment can be unpredictable. If she rallies her followers, it could create unwanted press scrutiny.”
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“Mr. Vance,” I smiled faintly, the coldest smile of my life. “When a person builds a house of lies, you don’t blow it down. You simply let them build it as tall as possible. The fall is much more permanent that way.”
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