Chapter 5 - The Proxy
The cold, sterile smell of iodine and the bright glare of surgical lights were Claire’s last memories before the anesthesia pulled her under.
When she finally opened her eyes, the world was soft and muted. She was back in a private recovery room. The heavy curtains were drawn against the winter night.
She shifted, and a dull, burning pain radiated from her lower abdomen.
“Don’t move too fast, sweetheart.”
Claire turned her head. Thomas was sitting in a high-backed chair next to her bed. In his arms, wrapped in a pink-and-blue striped hospital blanket, was a tiny, sleeping bundle.
Tears instantly welled in Claire’s eyes.
“Is she…?” Claire’s voice was a raspy whisper.
Thomas stood up and gently placed the baby onto Claire’s chest. The infant was tiny, her face pink and perfect, with a shock of dark hair. She let out a soft, mewling sound and nuzzled against Claire’s gown.
“She’s perfect,” Thomas said, his voice thick with an emotion Claire had rarely heard. “Four pounds, six ounces. Small, but a fighter. Just like her mother.”
Claire wrapped her arms around her daughter, sobbing quietly into the soft blanket. She was alive. They had survived.
“Where is Daniel?” Claire asked after a long moment, the warmth of the baby contrasting with the cold dread creeping back into her heart.
Thomas’s expression hardened. He sat back down. “He’s downstairs in the hospital administration office with his lawyer.”
Claire frowned. “Why?”
“Because he filed an emergency injunction an hour ago,” Thomas said grimly. “While you were in surgery, he used his status as your legal spouse and your medical proxy. He submitted an affidavit claiming you suffered severe neurological trauma from the fall and are temporarily incapacitated.”
“What? That’s a lie! Dr. Harris can prove I’m fine!”
“Dr. Harris can prove you are medically stable now,” Thomas corrected gently. “But the injunction was filed under the pretense of a 48-hour psychiatric and neurological evaluation hold. It’s a loophole. He doesn’t need it to hold up in court long-term. He only needs it for today.”
Claire felt a cold panic rising. “Why today?”
“Because with you declared legally incapacitated for the next 48 hours, his power of attorney kicks in,” Thomas explained. “He’s using it to authorize the final transfer of the $30 million from your mother’s trust to the Cayman shell company. He’s trying to drain the accounts and flee the country before we can stop him.”
Claire clutched her baby tighter. Daniel was trying to steal her daughter’s future.
“You have to freeze the accounts, Dad. You have lawyers.”
“I’ve already deployed them,” Thomas said, frustration tightening his jaw. “But the trust requires a dual-authorization override to freeze assets in the event of incapacitation. We need the digital key from his master ledger.”
“The flash drive Madeline dropped,” Claire realized.
Thomas nodded. “My team decrypted the first partition. It showed the wire transfers. But the actual account routing numbers and the authorization keys are on a secondary, hidden partition. It’s protected by a dynamic encryption that changes daily based on Daniel’s personal master password.”
Thomas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Madeline set up the shell company, but Daniel controlled the final keys because he didn’t trust her. We have until 5:00 PM when the banks in the Caymans process the daily batch wires. If we don’t have that password, the money vanishes into untraceable crypto wallets.”
Claire looked at the clock on the wall. It was 3:15 PM.
“He uses password generators,” Claire said, her mind racing. “He uses complex strings.”
“Think, Claire,” Thomas urged gently. “Men who are paranoid always root their passwords in something they can never forget. A childhood address, a first car, a milestone.”
Claire stared at the ceiling, thinking of the man who had lied to her for years. What did Daniel care about more than anything? Not her. Not this baby.
Ego. Daniel was driven by his ego. He needed to feel like he was a self-made man, even while stealing her family’s money.
“The compass,” Claire gasped.
Thomas looked at her.
“For his first million-dollar closing, I bought him an antique brass maritime compass,” Claire said quickly. “He keeps it on his desk. He said it was the moment he finally felt like he was navigating his own ship. It has a serial number engraved on the bottom. Nine digits.”
Thomas already had his phone out, dialing Vance.
“Vance. We need the serial number off the antique compass on Daniel’s desk at Bennett Strategies. Get someone inside. Break the glass if you have to.”
As Thomas hung up, the door to the recovery room clicked open.
Claire expected a nurse.
May you like
Instead, a woman in a cream wool coat slipped inside, locking the heavy door behind her.
It was Madeline Croft.
