Chapter 4
Back in the grand hallway, the panic was no longer subtle. Arthur Pendelton rushed toward Evelyn, his clipboard trembling in his hands. Evelyn stood rigidly where Charles had left her, her gaze fixed on the empty space near the East Wing corridor. The silver tray had been handed off to a passing waiter, leaving her black-gloved hands empty and twitching with agitation.
“Mrs. Vance,” Arthur panted slightly, stopping a respectful distance away. “The front gate intercom just patched through a call from the Department of Financial Oversight. They’re demanding immediate access to the primary ledger and the private family trust accounts.”
Evelyn didn’t blink. Her mind calculated the fallout with cold precision. A federal audit of the foundation meant the exposure of offshore accounts, misallocated charitable grants, and decades of financial engineering designed to keep the Vance name at the pinnacle of societal wealth while avoiding tens of millions in taxes. It wasn’t just a scandal; it was the end of everything she had sacrificed her youth, her marriage, and her personal happiness to maintain.
“Tell them there’s been a security breach,” Evelyn instructed coldly, her voice dropping an octave. “Tell them the server room experienced a catastrophic electrical failure and all digital records are currently being backed up to a secure, off-site location in compliance with federal privacy protocols. That buys us at least two hours.”
Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes darting toward the ballroom where guests were beginning to notice the sudden absence of the family hosts. “Mrs. Vance, the lead auditor is Agent Marcus Vance—wait, no, Agent Miller. He’s with the federal task force. He’s not going to accept a server failure excuse. He brought a court-ordered subpoena signed by a federal judge less than an hour ago.”
Evelyn’s composure finally cracked, a microscopic twitch of her right eye betraying her inner panic. “A judge? Whose signature?”
“Judge Alistair,” Arthur whispered.
Evelyn closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, absorbing the devastating reality. Alistair was an old family acquaintance, a man they had financially backed through two judicial election cycles. If Alistair signed a subpoena against the Vance Foundation, it meant he had been guaranteed federal protection or had realized the ship was sinking and decided to save his own career first. There was no loyalty left among thieves.
“Where is Charles?” Evelyn demanded, opening her eyes and scanning the thinning crowd.
May you like
“He went down the East Wing toward the private study,” Arthur replied. “Along with Mr. Julian and… and Ms. Lin.”
Evelyn’s fists clenched inside her black gloves. Maya Lin. For fifteen years, Maya had been nothing more than an exceptionally competent administrator, a shadow who managed the intricate paperwork of the foundation without ever drawing attention to herself. Evelyn had viewed her as help—indispensable, perhaps, but ultimately subordinate. Now, it was glaringly obvious that Maya was the architect of this entire catastrophe. She hadn’t just managed the accounts; she had weaponized them.
