Chapter 9 - the walls close in
At exactly 12:15 PM, Celeste was sitting in the back of her luxury SUV, heading toward the Foundation's headquarters. She was typing furiously on her laptop, drafting a press release to paint Vincent as a delusional fraud.
"Stop at the coffee shop," she ordered her driver.
The driver didn't respond. He kept his eyes straight ahead, driving past the shop.
"I said stop," Celeste snapped.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrington," the driver said, his voice tense. "I just received a call from the fleet manager. The lease on this vehicle has been terminated. I've been instructed to drop you off at the nearest safe corner and return the car to the lot."
Celeste froze. "Terminated? By who?"
"The holding company, ma'am. I'm pulling over now."
Ten minutes later, Celeste found herself standing on the sidewalk in her designer suit, watching her car drive away. Furious, she pulled out her phone to call an Uber Black. She opened the app, but a red error message popped up.
Payment Method Declined.
She frowned. She opened her banking app. The screen loaded slowly, the little circle spinning. When it finally opened, her jaw dropped. The accounts were there, but the available balance on every single one of her personal and joint accounts read $0.00. Beneath it, in stark red letters: Account Frozen - Pending Legal Review.
Her heart began to hammer against her ribs. This wasn't a corporate takeover. This was an assassination.
She hailed a yellow cab, promising the driver a cash tip from her purse. She arrived at the Foundation headquarters, bursting through the glass doors.
"Arthur!" she screamed, marching past the reception desk.
She reached the boardroom. The heavy oak doors were closed. She shoved them open, ready to unleash hell.
The room was full. Every single board member was seated around the massive mahogany table. But they weren't looking at the head of the table where she usually sat.
They were all turned toward the corner of the room, listening intently.
May you like
Sitting there, resting his hands on his black cane, wearing the same modest charcoal suit, was Vincent Romano. He was speaking quietly to the mayor of the city, who was nodding enthusiastically like a subordinate receiving orders.
Every head turned to look at Celeste as she stood panting in the doorway. She had never felt so entirely, utterly powerless.
