Chapter 6
The heavy steel door of the walk-in freezer hung open like the jaw of a frozen leviathan, billowing white clouds of sub-zero mist into the already frigid kitchen. The golden retriever puppy nestled deeper into the crook of Clara’s arm, shivering softly against the lace of her wedding gown.
Julian stepped toward the threshold of the freezer, peering into the absolute darkness where rows of stainless-steel meat hooks hung empty from the ceiling. A single halogen bulb flickered near the back wall, casting long, distorted shadows across blocks of industrial ice.
"You want us to walk into a literal industrial freezer to sign a legal document?" Julian asked, his voice dripping with venom as he glared back at Victor. "What’s next? Do we have to wrestle a bear for the notary stamp?"
"Only if the bear holds a valid power of attorney," Victor replied smoothly, tapping his mahogany cane against the floor. "The pen is resting on the central meat block. You have precisely four minutes before the internal locking mechanism engages automatically. Once locked from the inside, the door can only be opened by a biometric thumbprint matching the holder of the trust."
Clara tightened her grip on the puppy, her knuckles stark white against the golden fur. "And whose thumbprint is programmed into the door lock, Father?"
Victor’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Mine, of course. Or Maya’s. She’s the managing partner of the freezer division."
Maya nodded sagely, swinging her purple tulle skirt. "I handle cold storage logistics. It’s part of my kindergarten extracurriculars."
Julian let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. He looked at Clara, his eyes softening with deep concern beneath the harsh lighting. "We aren't doing this, Clara. We’re walking out of here. I don't care about the offshore accounts, I don't care about the trust fund, and I certainly don't care about your father’s corporate games."
"You can't walk out, Julian," Clara murmured, pointing toward the kitchen windows.
Julian glanced back at the frosted glass. Outside, the parking lot was no longer empty. Three sleek, black armored vans had pulled up, blocking every exit. Men in tactical gear were methodically unrolling spools of razor wire across the perimeter, sealing off the entire venue from the outside world.
"He’s federalizing the property," Julian realized, the horrifying truth sinking in. "Your father isn't just running a corporate scam. He’s operating a rogue financial jurisdiction."
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"It’s called sovereign restructuring," Victor corrected, checking a vintage gold pocket watch. "And your four minutes are ticking down. Three minutes and forty seconds remaining. Move, children. Business waits for no one."
Julian clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached. With a low growl of pure frustration, he grabbed Clara’s hand, and together, holding the shivering puppy between them, they stepped past Victor Vance and plunged headfirst into the freezing darkness of the industrial vault.
