Chapter 15 - The Counter-Strike
"She’s bluffing about the timeline," Ryan said calmly, keeping his eyes on the road as he navigated through downtown traffic. "If Paige truly had an ironclad case to put you behind bars without burning herself, she wouldn't give you forty-eight hours to hand over the company. She’d execute the leverage immediately. Extortion only works while the victim still has something to lose."
"She wants the entire kingdom, Ryan. Not just revenge," I replied, my mind racing as the adrenaline finally cleared the shock from my veins. "If she sends me to prison, the trust gets frozen in probate for years. The board would appoint an independent custodian. Paige and Eleanor wouldn't see a single dime. They need me alive, free, and terrified enough to sign the transfer papers willingly."
"Which gives us a window," Ryan said. He tapped the Bluetooth control on his dashboard. "I’m calling Marcus Cole."
"The white-collar defense attorney?"
"The best in the state. If anyone knows how your grandfather structured his offshore holdings, it’s Marcus. He handled the estate planning for the distribution firm five years ago."
Twenty minutes later, we were ushered into a high-rise office overlooking the city harbor. Marcus Cole sat behind an uncluttered glass desk, wearing a tailored charcoal suit that contrasted sharply with his silver hair. He listened in silence as I recounted the cellar break-in, Paige’s threats, and the phantom documents I had signed at sixteen.
When I finished, Marcus didn't look terrified. Instead, a faint, wry smile crossed his lips.
"Paige Vance was always impatient," Marcus said, steepling his fingers. "She inherited her mother’s theatrical flair, but none of Julian Vance’s calculated genius."
"What does that mean, Marcus?" I leaned forward, my heart hammering. "Did Grandfather use me as a front for forty million dollars?"
"Yes and no," Marcus replied evenly. "Julian did establish two foreign entities in Zurich twenty years ago. At the time, your mother Eleanor had run up astronomical gambling debts in Monaco and tried to leverage the company’s supply lines to secure high-interest loans from criminal syndicates. To protect the core assets from Eleanor’s creditors, your grandfather created an offshore reserve fund. And yes, Maya, he used your legal identity as the sole beneficiary."
"The beneficiary?" I repeated, blinking. "Paige said I was the registered owner—the front."
"A common misconception among amateurs who don't understand corporate trusts," Marcus explained, standing up and retrieving a thick, sealed manila file from a biometric safe behind his desk. "Under Swiss banking protocols and US cross-border compliance laws at that time, a minor cannot be held criminally liable for the creation of an offshore trust established by a legal guardian. More importantly, Julian added an irrevocable indemnity clause when you turned eighteen."
Marcus placed the document in front of me. I scanned the pages with shaking hands.
"Julian paid all back taxes, penalties, and voluntary disclosure fees to the Department of Justice five years before he passed," Marcus revealed. "He cleaned the entire reserve. It is not an unregistered illicit fund anymore, Maya. It is completely legal, fully taxed, and sitting securely in an escrow account earmarked solely for you."
"Then what did Paige take from the cellar vault?" I asked, bewildered.
"She took the original 2004 establishment ledger," Marcus said, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "A document that looks damning on the surface, but is utterly meaningless without the modern clearance certificates. Paige is holding an unloaded gun, Maya. But she doesn't know it."
A rush of euphoric relief swept through me, followed immediately by a sharp, icy resolve. Paige and Eleanor thought they held my life in their hands. They thought they had finally brought me to my knees with blackmail.
"Marcus," I said, a slow, determined smile spreading across my lips. "Does Paige’s phone call to me count as attempted extortion under federal statute?"
"Grand larceny, wire fraud, and felony extortion," Marcus answered without hesitation. "And if she attempts to deliver those outdated ledgers to a prosecutor in exchange for your corporate shares, she’s committing perjury and filing false instruments."
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"Good," I said, turning to Ryan. "Then let's give my sister the meeting she asked for. It's time to set our own trap."
***