Chapter 6 - The Trap Springs
The evening sun was sinking beneath the city skyline, casting long, bruised-purple shadows across the polished hardwood of my living room.
I sat at my desk with Sandra Okafor and David Chen, reviewing the digital paper trail that had completely gutted Derek Vance’s financial house of cards in less than eight hours. The $25,000 honeymoon wire was canceled. The $40,000 venue deposit at Ridgeline Barn was locked securely in escrow pending return to my business account. The $150,000 commercial loan line at First National was frozen solid under a federal compliance hold.
And then my phone began to vibrate on the desk.
The screen illuminated with Derek’s name.
I picked up the phone, placed it on speaker, and gestured for my legal team to remain silent.
"Frances!" Derek’s voice burst through the speaker, high-pitched, fast, and laced with poorly concealed panic. "Frances, thank God you picked up. There’s been a massive administrative glitch at First National Bank. They’ve temporarily locked my corporate line, and I need you to call Arthur Pendelton right now to confirm your guarantor status!"
I leaned back in my leather chair, resting my chin on my hand. "A glitch, Derek?"
"Yes! A total system error," he lied effortlessly, his corporate charm cracking at the edges. "I’m at the dealership right now trying to finalize a lease on our new executive vehicles for the agency, and the card was declined. It’s completely embarrassing. Just give Pendelton a quick call and tell him everything is verified."
"I can't do that, Derek," I said softly.
A beat of heavy silence stretched over the line.
"What do you mean you can't?" he asked, his tone dropping an octave, losing its warmth.
"I mean I was in Arthur Pendelton's office two hours ago," I replied, my voice steady as stone. "Along with my attorneys, a forensic accountant, and the certified evidence of the forged power-of-attorney form you sent to Ridgeline Barn."
Derek’s breath hitched over the speaker. I could hear the background murmur of traffic outside his car suddenly go still.
"Frances... look, you're taking things out of context—"
"I’m taking nothing out of context," I interrupted coldly. "I know about Vance Media Holdings. I know about the fake retainers from Meridian Health and Apex Logistics. I know about the stolen deposit. And I know about the twelve-word text you forced my daughter to send me yesterday morning."
"You crazy old bitch," Derek snarled, completely shedding his polished persona. The suave son-in-law vanished, replaced by the bitter, cornered predator underneath. "You think you're so smart, don't you? You think you can just ruin my business because you want to keep Joselyn tied to your apron strings?"
"Your business was built on paper fraud, Derek. I didn't ruin it; I simply stopped paying for it."
"If you don't unfreeze that loan by tomorrow morning, I will take Joselyn so far away from you that you'll never see her face again," he threatened, his voice dripping with venom. "She hates you, Frances. She signed that joint account over to me voluntarily. She chose me."
"Check that joint account again, Derek," I said quietly. "And then check your front porch."
May you like
I hung up the phone before he could answer.
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