Chapter 3: The Price of Treason
Chapter 3: The Price of Treason
By noon the following day, the Vance family’s world had completely dissolved into chaos. Julian had been released on a hefty bail, paid for by his mother liquidating a portion of her remaining stock portfolio, but his freedom was hollow.
When he arrived at the headquarters of Vance Logistics, the mid-sized shipping company his grandfather had founded, he found two federal auditors and a team of forensic investigators from Sterling Capital already stationed in his office.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Julian stormed into the boardroom, his neck still bruising from where the police had restrained him the night before. “Get these people out of my office! I am the Vice President of this company!”
A tall, impeccably dressed man in his late forties stood up from the head of the table. It was Robert Vance—no relation to Julian, but rather Arthur Sterling’s chief legal executioner.
“You were the Vice President, Mr. Vance,” Robert said, sliding a thick legal document across the glass table. “As of 8:00 a.m. this morning, Sterling Capital has exercised the default clause on the eight-million-dollar line of credit your company took out last winter. Since you used your personal shares as collateral, and those shares have now dropped below the margin requirement due to your arrest making the morning news, Sterling Capital has taken over majority control of Vance Logistics.”
Julian’s face drained of color, turning a sickly, translucent grey. “You can’t do that. That line of credit wasn't due for renewal until next year!”
“Read the fine print, Julian,” Robert said with a cold, humorless smile. “The agreement explicitly states that any criminal indictment involving moral turpitude or domestic violence by a major shareholder constitutes an immediate material breach. Your father-in-law didn't just give you that money out of the goodness of his heart; he structured the loan so that if you ever hurt his daughter, he could strip your family of their livelihood with a single signature.”
Before Julian could process the loss of his company, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. It was his mother.
“Julian!” Beatrice shrieked into the receiver, her voice high and breathless with pure terror. “There are movers at the house! They have a court order from Arthur’s attorneys! They’re seizing the furniture, the cars, everything! They say the lease on the property was terminated because the corporate guarantor withdrew the funds!”
“Mom, calm down—”
“And they found the safe, Julian!” Beatrice wailed. “They had a warrant to recover stolen property! They took Clara’s grandmother’s diamond necklace, and the police are saying they’re going to add grand larceny charges to your file because I had it hidden in my closet!”
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Julian dropped the phone onto the boardroom table. He looked at Robert, his eyes wide with a desperate, animalistic panic. “Please… let me talk to Arthur. Let me talk to Clara. I’ll apologize! I’ll go to anger management! I’ll do whatever they want! Just don’t destroy my family like this!”
“Mr. Sterling has no interest in your apologies, Julian,” Robert said, gathering his files into his leather briefcase. “He has only one interest: ensuring that you pay for every single tear his daughter has cried. And trust me, we are just getting started.”
