Chapter 6 - The Missing Millions
The prosecutor froze, the pen slipping from his fingers to clatter loudly against the metal interrogation table. He stared up at the frantic agent, his professional composure shattering into utter disbelief.
“What do you mean they’re gone?” the prosecutor demanded, his voice echoing sharply off the concrete walls.
“Explain yourself, Agent Miller.”
Julian dropped his own pen, watching the exchange with a mixture of dread and morbid fascination.
Agent Miller leaned down, placing a printed bank ledger directly in front of the prosecutor.
“The offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands,” Miller said breathlessly.
“The forty million dollars that Julian transferred out of Sterling Logistics last month—they weren’t just frozen by us. They were completely drained thirty minutes ago.”
Julian bolted upright in his chair, the heavy metal clanging against the floor.
“Drained?” Julian shouted, panic spiking in his throat.
“That’s impossible! Those accounts are locked by federal injunction! Nobody can touch them without my private cryptographic key!”
“And yet,” Miller said, turning his cold gaze directly toward Julian, “someone just bypassed the federal firewall using a master override code that hasn't been active since your father passed away five years ago.”
Julian’s breath caught in his chest. Only two people in the entire world possessed the master override code: Julian himself, and the person who founded the company alongside his late father.
“My mother,” Julian whispered, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
“Margaret took the money.”
The prosecutor grabbed the ledger, his eyes darting across the numerical columns showing the rapid, flawless transfer of forty million dollars into an unlisted, heavily encrypted philanthropic trust bearing the name of the Sterling Logistics Workers Foundation.
“Your mother didn’t just lock your accounts, Julian,” the prosecutor said slowly, a grim smile forming on his lips.
“She legally reclaimed every stolen penny and redistributed it back to the employee pension fund you looted. She completely outmaneuvered both you and the federal government.”
Julian slumped back into his chair, utterly defeated. Not only was he facing decades in prison, but he was now completely penniless, stripped of the very wealth he had committed felonies to protect.
“She left me with nothing,” Julian mumbled, staring blankly at the cold steel table.
“She left you with a fair trial and a conscience, Mr. Sterling,” the prosecutor replied coldly, standing up to leave the room.
“Guard, take the prisoner back to holding. We have a new warrant to write.”
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As the heavy steel door slammed shut behind the guards, the intercom on the wall buzzed with a sharp, static-filled screech. A voice cut through the speaker, announcing that a visitor was waiting in Room B—and it wasn’t his lawyer.
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