Chapter 9: The Reckoning
The lawyer's name was Petra Holt, and she arrived at nine with two associates and a briefcase that she set on the dining room table without asking permission.
Alaric sat at the head of the table.
Serena sat beside him.
Faye sat across from them, Marco one seat to her left.
The documents from the night before had been replaced by a new set — cleaner, organized, flagged with colored tabs.
Petra opened the briefcase.
"I'll be brief," she said.
"Mr.
Vane asked me to present the current legal position to everyone in this room simultaneously, so there are no misunderstandings later about who knew what and when."
She laid three documents on the table.
"First.
The amended will, executed eight months ago.
Bastian Vane is removed as primary heir.
The estate passes to the child currently carried by Serena Alcott, with Alaric Vane named as trustee until the child reaches twenty-five.
A secondary provision protects Faye Vane's legal interests as a current spouse, including the property held jointly in her name."
Faye looked at Alaric.
He nodded once.
"Second." Petra placed the second document.
"A financial audit completed over the past six months.
Bastian Vane diverted approximately two point three million from family accounts across fourteen transactions.
The transfers were structured to avoid reporting thresholds.
They were not structured well enough." She said the last sentence without expression.
"Copies of this audit have been provided to the relevant financial authorities as of seven-fifteen this morning."
Nobody spoke.
"Third." The final document.
"A record of communications between Bastian Vane and a third party, spanning the past eleven months.
The third party is a competitor of the Vane family business.
The communications include pricing information, client lists, and internal strategy documents that were shared without authorization."
Serena's hand found Alaric's under the table.
Marco leaned forward.
"He was selling information."
"The evidence supports that conclusion," Petra said.
"That matter has also been referred."
Faye looked at the three documents laid out in a row.
She thought about the phone call at six-fifteen.
The careful, practiced voice.
*There are things you don't know.* He had been right about that, at least.
There were things she hadn't known.
She just hadn't known the right things.
"Where is he?" she said.
"As of this morning, his passport was flagged," Petra said.
"He has not left the country.
His phone last pinged a tower forty kilometers from here at six-forty."
"He's not running," Marco said.
"He's waiting."
Alaric looked at him.
"Waiting for what?"
"For someone to offer him a way out." Marco looked at the documents.
"That's what he does.
He waits for the better deal."
"There is no better deal," Alaric said.
"He doesn't know that yet."
Petra closed the briefcase.
"There is one additional matter." She looked at Alaric.
"Bianca Vane."
Alaric's expression didn't change.
"Go on."
"The offer she made to Mr.
Voss last night — to pay him to relinquish parental claim in exchange for a contract renewal — constitutes an attempt to interfere with parental rights.
If Mr.
Voss wishes to pursue that, there is a basis."
Marco looked at Faye.
Faye looked at Marco.
"Not yet," Marco said.
"Let's see what she does next."
Petra nodded.
She gathered her associates and left the room with the same efficiency she had entered it.
The four of them sat in the quiet.
Serena looked at the table.
At the flagged documents.
At the clean, organized record of everything Bastian had done, laid out in order, impossible to argue with.
"He won't come back quietly," she said.
"No," Alaric agreed.
"Then what do we do?"
Alaric looked at Petra's empty chair.
Then at Serena.
Then at Faye.
"We wait for him to make his next move," he said.
"And we make sure we're ready for it."
His phone buzzed on the table.
He looked at the screen.
He turned it so Serena could see.
It was a message from an unknown number.
Four words.
*We need to talk.*
Serena read it.
She looked up at Alaric.
"Is that him?"
"No," Alaric said.
"That's not Bastian's style."
May you like
He looked at the message again.
"That's Bianca."
