Chapter 3 - The Forensic of Betrayal
Samuel Price walked into the room like a cold front.
He was my father’s attorney for thirty years.
He was a man who didn't care about family drama.
He only cared about the law.
Behind him were two men in grey suits.
They didn't look like lawyers.
They looked like accountants.
The kind of accountants who worked for the federal government.
Marcus backed away from the desk.
"Price? What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to execute the final wishes of Thomas Vance," Samuel said.
He didn't offer his hand to Marcus.
He didn't offer his condolences.
He placed his briefcase on the desk and opened it.
"Your father knew this day would come, Marcus."
"He knew that the moment he was gone, you would try to claim his legacy."
"So he spent his final six months preparing a very different kind of inheritance."
Samuel picked up the first manila folder.
"This folder contains records from the offshore account in the Caymans."
"The account that was supposed to fund your 'tech startup'."
Marcus’s eyes darted toward the window.
"The one you emptied three months ago," Samuel continued.
"Eight hundred thousand dollars."
"Transferred to a shell company owned by your wife’s brother."
A gasp went through the room.
Uncle Raymond looked at Marcus, his jaw dropping.
"Marcus?" Raymond asked. "Is that true?"
"It was a loan!" Marcus shouted. "Dad approved it!"
Samuel picked up the second folder.
"This folder contains the forged signatures on the property deeds in Florida."
"Signatures that were witnessed by a notary who has already confessed to taking a bribe."
"Marcus, you didn't just borrow money."
"You looted your father’s estate while he was literally gasping for air."
I watched Marcus.
He looked like a cornered rat.
The arrogance was gone, replaced by a frantic, sweating desperation.
"The money in the safe was gone because you took it months ago," I said.
My voice was quiet, but it cut through the room.
"Dad knew."
"He watched the bank alerts on his phone while I held his hand."
"He watched you steal his life's work, Marcus."
"And he decided to let you keep going."
"Why?" Marcus hissed. "Why would he let me?"
The man in the grey suit stepped forward.
"Because he wanted a paper trail," the investigator said.
"He wanted every single transfer, every forged document, and every lie to be documented."
"He wanted it to be so clear that even the best lawyers in the country couldn't save you."
"My name is Agent Miller. I’m with the Financial Crimes Division."
"And we have a warrant for your arrest, Marcus."
Vanessa let out a strangled cry.
She tried to slip out of the room, but the second agent blocked the door.
"You're coming with us too, Mrs. Vance," the agent said.
"Conspiracy to commit fraud is a serious charge."
The room was spinning.
The relatives were backing away from Marcus as if he were radioactive.
The "Golden Boy" was now a felon in a cheap suit.
May you like
And the quiet daughter was the one holding the keys.
***
