Chapter 3
Arthur sat safely inside the climate-controlled interior of a black tactical van parked three miles down the winding country road. Agent Vance of the federal cyber-crimes division handed him a warm cup of black coffee in a paper cup.
"The primary asset freeze protocol has been successfully executed, Mr. Vance; your wife's corporate cards are dead," the agent reported. Arthur took a slow sip of the coffee, his dark eyes reflecting the cold blue light of three monitors displaying live financial data.
"She thinks she locked me out of the empire, but she only locked herself inside a cage of digital evidence," Arthur stated calmly. "What are your instructions regarding the secondary offshore accounts registered in the Cayman Islands?" Agent Vance inquired professionally.
"Leave those open for another twelve hours; let her try to transfer funds so the Department of Justice catches her in real-time," Arthur instructed. He rubbed his numb legs, the physical trauma of his recent accident fading into the background of his hyper-focused mind.
Clara had engineered his paralysis through a slow-acting neurotoxin administered via his nightly medication over the past six months. She had wanted him helpless, compliant, and completely unaware while she systematically gutted his corporate empire.
What she hadn't anticipated was his internal toxicology report, secretly processed by federal medical examiners three weeks prior. Every illicit financial wire, every forged signature, and every medical record was meticulously backed up on secure government servers.
"She's already panicking and calling her legal team in Manhattan," an intelligence analyst announced from the back of the van. Arthur smiled faintly, a terrifying expression of cold vengeance that made even the hardened federal agents look away.
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"Let her panic; the real nightmare doesn't begin until the stock market opens at nine o'clock this morning," Arthur whispered quietly. He adjusted his collar, looking out the tinted window toward the distant horizon where dawn was breaking over Virginia.
The multimillion-dollar mansion, the luxury cars, and the social standing were all built on stolen foundations ready to collapse.
