Chapter 13 - The Poison in the Boardroom
The helicopter touched down on the private pad at the West 30th Street Heliport.
Rain was beginning to fall over the Hudson River, turning the gray water into chopped slate.
Marcus was waiting for me at the edge of the tarmac under a wide black umbrella.
He handed me a secure folder before I even stepped off the skid.
"We ran the creditor," Marcus said as we ducked into the waiting armored sedan.
"Apex Sovereign Capital isn't a hedge fund."
"It's a debt-aggregator fronted by a legal firm in Zurich."
"Who is behind Zurich?" I asked, flipping through the transaction logs.
"Christopher Vance," Marcus replied.
The name hit the interior of the car like a live grenade.
Christopher.
My father’s estranged younger brother.
The uncle who had been exiled from the family trust twenty years ago after a failed bid to liquidate our grandfather's rail logistics company.
He had spent the last two decades in Geneva, building a reputation as a corporate raider who specialized in hostile family takeovers.
"Julian didn't borrow twenty-five million to pay off street bookies," I realized, the puzzle pieces clicking together with sickening precision.
"Julian sold Christopher the forged board minutes."
"Christopher funded the loan through Apex Sovereign."
"Then Christopher intentionally triggered a default by calling the mezzanine note six months early."
"Exactly," Marcus confirmed grimly.
"Under Delaware commercial law, if a defaulted note is backed by pledged equity, the creditor can demand an immediate emergency injunction."
"They can freeze Vance Holdings' operating accounts pending a receivership hearing."
"When does the freeze take effect?"
"Forty-eight hours," Marcus said.
"Unless we can prove the board minutes were fraudulent before Chancellor Gallagher in Wilmington."
"To prove fraud, we need Julian to testify under oath that he forged my signature and stole the seal."
I leaned back against the leather seat, staring at the raindrops sliding down the tinted glass.
Julian would never testify against Uncle Christopher voluntarily.
Christopher had probably promised Julian a ten percent cut of the liquidated spoils—tens of millions of dollars.
Julian had spent his entire life searching for a shortcut to the finish line, and Christopher had offered him an elevator.
"Where is Julian's room at the Peninsula?" I asked Marcus.
"Suite 1204," Marcus replied.
"Registered under the name of an LLC called 'Golden Horizons.'"
"Take me there."
"And Marcus?"
"Yes, Claire?"
"Call the District Attorney's financial crimes unit."
May you like
"Tell them to stand by with a grand jury warrant for grand larceny and wire fraud."
"If my brother thinks he can use my corporate name to cash out my life, he is about to discover what happens when you sign a contract with the devil."
