Chapter 8 - The Vanishing Millions
Victoria’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in genuine terror. "Emptied? That’s impossible. Only I have the private cryptographic key. Not even Julian has the full passcode."
"Then I suggest you ask the person who just logged into the master terminal from the VIP lounge," the investigator said sharply, spinning her back around toward the ballroom doors. "Because according to the federal cyber-trace, the money was just funneled straight into a dormant account registered under the name 'Sterling Relief International'—which was dissolved legally by Chloe Miller three weeks ago."
Before Victoria could process the absurdity and horror of the statement, the elevator doors behind them slid open again. But it wasn't an empty car. Standing inside, holding a sleek black leather briefcase and wearing a crisp gray suit, was Julian Vance. He wasn't wearing his glasses anymore, and the panic that had crippled him minutes ago was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, calculating smile.
"Julian?" Victoria breathed, struggling against the cuffs. "Thank God. Tell them. Tell them this is insane. Tell them you have my keys."
Julian stepped out of the elevator, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his lapel. He didn't look at Victoria with pity or fear; he looked at her the way an appraiser looks at a broken, worthless antique.
"I'm sorry, Victoria, but my client cooperation agreement went into effect the moment Ms. Miller uploaded the internal audit," Julian said smoothly, his voice devoid of any warmth. "You were always the public face of the foundation, yes. But a face is easily replaced when the liability gets too heavy."
The investigator stepped between them, his hand resting on his holster. "Mr. Vance, step back."
"I am stepping back, Officer," Julian replied, holding up his empty hands. "In fact, I'm walking away entirely. My firm has already filed the receivership papers. By midnight, the Sterling name will be legally scrubbed from every asset, building, and trust in this state."
Victoria stared at the man she had trusted implicitly for a decade. The betrayal was absolute, cold, and surgical.
"You set me up," Victoria whispered, the fight completely draining out of her. "You and Chloe."
May you like
Julian smiled faintly, leaning in close enough for her to catch the scent of expensive cologne. "We didn't set you up, Victoria. We just finally stopped cleaning up your messes."
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