Chapter 4 - THE DIGITAL FORTRESS
By evening, the loft was quiet again. The cleaning service had come and gone, scrubbing away every trace of the muddy water and the unpleasant energy the Vance family had brought into my sanctuary.
I sat at my custom walnut desk in the home office, the glow of three high-resolution monitors illuminating my face. On the main screen, lines of code and financial analytics for my UI/UX design firm, Aether Studios, scrolled smoothly past.
My phone buzzed against the desk.
It was a text from an unknown number: Sloan, please pick up. We need to talk about the corporate accounts. Dad is threatening to sue.
I blocked the number instantly without blinking.
Vance still didn't understand. He thought this was a domestic dispute—a messy breakup that could be negotiated with lawyers and corporate settlements. He had no idea that while he was busy playing the patriarch in my living room, my technical team had been conducting a full forensic audit on the holding company he shared with his father.
A soft chime sounded from my secondary monitor. A secure encrypted file packet popped up on the screen, labeled VANCE-REALTY-AUDIT-FINAL.pdf.
It was sent by my lead corporate counsel, Marcus Vance (no relation to my ex, thankfully—a brilliant bulldog of an attorney who specialized in hostile corporate takeovers).
I opened the document and began reading.
The findings were staggering. For the past eighteen months, Arthur Vance Real Estate—Vance’s family firm—had been systematically commingling corporate funds with personal accounts, inflating property valuations to secure emergency bridge loans from secondary lenders, and hiding millions of dollars in offshore shell companies to evade state taxes.
In short, the entire Vance family empire was a massive, federally illegal Ponzi scheme teetering on the edge of a cliff.
My phone buzzed again. This time it was an email notification from my bank. A security alert: Large outbound wire transfer attempt from Aether Studios operating account to Vance Holdings LLC.
I stared at the screen, my eyes narrowing.
They hadn't just packed their bags and left. Vance’s father, Arthur Vance Sr., had tried to execute an unauthorized corporate transfer using administrative credentials Vance must have copied onto his phone months ago.
They were trying to steal from my company on their way out the door.
I reached for my phone, unlocked it, and speed-dialed Marcus.
He answered on the first ring. “Sloan. I was just about to call you. Did you see the alert?”
“I saw it, Marcus,” I said, my voice ice-cold. “They tried to pull two hundred thousand dollars out of the operational reserves thirty minutes ago.”
“Amateur hour,” Marcus chuckled darkly on the other end of the line. “They thought because you were getting married, your corporate governance controls were lax. They left a digital paper trail a mile wide.”
“Can we lock them out completely?” I asked.
“Lock them out? Sloan, with the evidence we have in this audit packet, we can freeze every single asset Arthur Vance owns before the markets open tomorrow morning,” Marcus said, his voice dropping into professional excitement. “Not only did they attempt corporate wire fraud, but they also used your company’s intellectual property as collateral for one of their shady bridge loans without your written consent.”
A slow, dangerous smile crept across my lips.
May you like
“Do it, Marcus,” I instructed softly. “Freeze their accounts. File the injunctions. And notify the district attorney’s economic crimes division. Let’s see how long their family name protects them when federal investigators come knocking.”
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