Chapter 4 - The Shocking Morning Alerts Inside The Whitmore Mansion
At 6:15 AM, the harsh sunlight broke over the storm-swept trees surrounding the Whitmore mansion in suburban Highland Park.
Grant woke up with a mild hangover, stretching lazily across the king-sized silk sheets beside Vanessa, who was still fast asleep.
His custom smartphone suddenly burst into an endless, vibrating frenzy on the nightstand, rattling violently against a glass water coaster.
He groaned and grabbed the device, expecting a routine daily briefing from his chief operating officer at Whitmore Capital.
Instead, thirty-two urgent notification banners flooded his screen in crimson red letters: ACCOUNT FROZEN. CREDIT LINE TERMINATED. INVESTOR WITHDRAWAL.
Grant sat bolt upright, his hangover instantly evaporating into a wave of icy panic that trickled down his spine.
He opened his personal banking app, only to find a bold zero displayed beneath his five million dollar cash reserves balance.
“What the hell is going on?” Grant muttered frantically, his hands shaking as he dialed his chief financial officer’s private line.
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“Grant! Don't come into the office!” his CFO shouted through the speaker, heavy background chaos echoing across the line.
“The federal marshals and bank auditors just locked the trading floor! Every institutional investor is pulling their capital out right now!”
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