Chapter 17 - The Collapse of the Golden Boy
Julian took the witness stand, raising his right hand with a trembling motion that looked like a bird with a broken wing.
"I do," he whispered when asked to swear the oath.
Chancellor Gallagher leaned forward, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in severe scrutiny.
"Mr. Vance, you understand you are under oath before this court?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Julian choked out.
Marcus stepped to the podium, holding a single document.
"Julian, I direct your attention to Exhibit C—the board resolution of Vance Holdings dated November 14th."
"Did my client, Claire Vance, authorize that resolution?"
"No," Julian answered, his voice barely audible.
"Speak into the microphone, please," the Chancellor ordered sharply.
"No!" Julian said louder, his voice cracking into a sob.
"She didn't know about it."
A sharp murmur ripped through Christopher Vance’s legal team.
Christopher leaned over to his lead counsel, his face dark with suppressed rage, his fingernails digging into the oak table.
"Who provided you with the template for that fraudulent resolution, Julian?" Marcus pressed, relentless as a metronome.
Julian turned his eyes slowly toward the defense table.
He looked directly at Uncle Christopher.
"Christopher did."
"He sent me the text through an encrypted Swiss email account."
"He told me that if I broke into my grandmother's estate safe in New Jersey and got the original corporate seal, he would wire five million dollars to an offshore account in the Bahamas."
"He said Claire would never dare contest it in public court because she couldn't afford the hit to her stock price."
"Objection!" Christopher’s lawyer leaped to his feet.
"This is hearsay and unsubstantiated conjecture!"
"It is not unsubstantiated, Your Honor," Marcus said calmly, handing three sealed manila envelopes to the court bailiff.
"We submit the decrypted wire transfers from Apex Sovereign’s Swiss subsidiary directly to Mr. Julian Vance’s personal account."
"Along with the forensic metadata from the documents found in Julian Vance’s hotel suite yesterday afternoon."
In the gallery, my mother let out a shrill, piercing wail that echoed off the mahogany paneling.
She stood up, pointing a trembling finger at the back of my head.
"Claire! Stop this!" she screamed before the bailiff could reach her.
"He's your brother! You're putting him in prison!"
"You're destroying your own family!"
"Silence in the gallery!" Chancellor Gallagher banged his gavel with thunderous authority.
"Bailiff, remove that woman immediately!"
Arthur pulled Eleanor back into the wooden bench, but she continued to weep openly, her hands covering her face.
I did not turn around.
I did not look at my mother.
I kept my eyes fixed on Christopher Vance, whose aristocratic poise had completely disintegrated into a mask of bitter hatred.
"Chancellor," Marcus concluded, resting his hands on the podium.
"This is not a corporate debt."
"This is an orchestrated extortion racket led by Christopher Vance using an emotionally compromised relative."
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"We move for an immediate dismissal with prejudice."
"And we request an immediate referral to the Department of Justice."
