Chapter 14 - The Setup
The air in the living room grew completely still.
I reached for the brown envelope, my fingers brushing against the rough paper.
"Explain," I commanded, tearing the seal open.
My mother clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
"When you blackmailed Richard with the Cayman files, you backed him into a corner," she said.
"He couldn't touch you directly."
"But Arthur Vance was humiliated."
"The Vances demanded retribution for Chloe’s broken engagement."
I pulled a stack of bank statements and internal corporate memos from the envelope.
"So they formed an alliance," my mother continued.
"Richard agreed to help Arthur destroy you, as long as Arthur’s hands were the ones holding the knife."
I scanned the documents, my blood turning to ice.
"These are offshore transfer logs," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
"They have my signature on them."
"They are forged," my mother stated flatly.
"Richard is using his people in accounting to backdate wire transfers."
"They are making it look like you were the one who embezzled the thirty million dollars from the Cayman merger."
Valerie stood up, her face pale.
"But Carter has the original files!" she argued.
"He can prove his father did it!"
"It won't matter," I realized, the horrifying genius of the plan dawning on me.
"If the FBI raids my house and finds forged documents tying me to the money, it becomes a he-said, she-said."
"My father has a billion-dollar legal team."
"He will bury me in litigation until I go to federal prison."
"And while you are locked away awaiting trial," my mother added softly, looking at Valerie, "Arthur Vance will use his influence to ensure Child Protective Services deems your home an unfit environment."
Valerie gasped, stumbling back a step.
"They want to take Lucy."
"They want to take everything," I said, slamming the documents onto the table.
"When are they making their move?"
My mother looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room.
"Richard submitted the anonymous tip to the SEC and the FBI yesterday," she said, her voice trembling.
"The warrants were signed this morning."
A heavy, terrifying silence fell over the house.
"Carter," my mother whispered, tears spilling over her eyelashes.
"They are coming today."
As if on cue, the sound of heavy tires screeching against the pavement outside shattered the quiet afternoon.
I rushed to the window and pulled back the curtain.
Three black SUVs were parked on my front lawn.
Men in dark windbreakers with the letters FBI printed in bold yellow on their backs were pouring out of the vehicles.
"Valerie," I said, turning around, my voice desperate and urgent.
"Get your phone."
"Call Marcus."
The front door trembled as a massive fist pounded against the wood.
"FBI! Open the door!"
"Carter, I'm scared," Valerie whispered, tears finally breaking free.
I grabbed her face in my hands, kissing her hard.
"Listen to me," I said, looking deep into her eyes.
"Do not let them break you."
"Fight them, Val."
"Fight them for me."
Before she could answer, the front door was kicked open, splintering the wood frame.
Agents swarmed the living room, shouting orders.
I was shoved against the wall, my arms twisted painfully behind my back as cold steel handcuffs clicked around my wrists.
I looked over my shoulder as they dragged me toward the door.
Valerie was holding my mother’s hand, her tear-stained face hardened with a fierce, unbreakable resolve.
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The war had escalated, but they had just made their biggest mistake.
They had underestimated Valerie.
