Chapter 7 - Derek's Desperate Calls To Corrupt Wall Street Lawyers
Back in his downtown office, Derek paced frantically across the Persian rug while dialing every prominent defense attorney in Manhattan.
“Listen to me, Marcus, I need an immediate federal injunction against Whitmore Holdings!” Derek barked into his receiver.
“Mr. Harrington, my firm has represented the Whitmore family trust for forty years; we cannot take your case,” the lawyer replied flatly.
“I will pay double your standard retainer fee!” Derek shouted in desperation.
“You couldn't afford our filing fee right now, Derek, based on what the clearinghouse just published,” Marcus said before hanging up.
Derek slammed his phone onto the mahogany desk, watching the screen shatter into a spiderweb of fine cracks.
His corporate credit cards had just been declined when he tried to purchase a simple cup of coffee downstairs.
The private driver who had served him for five years texted him a resignation notice accompanied by unpaid invoice demands.
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He walked over to his office window, looking down at Wall Street where traders walked past oblivious to his total ruin.
For the first time, the terrifying reality of what Clara had accomplished sank deep into his panicked bones.
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