Chapter 9 - THE DESPERATE CALL
It happened at precisely 11:30 AM.
I was sitting in my father’s private home office, reviewing a comprehensive asset audit on my laptop, when my personal cell phone—a secure device provided by Marcus—vibrated on the mahogany desk.
I picked it up. The screen flashed an unknown caller ID, but the encrypted tracking interface overlaid by our security team instantly identified the signal origin: a public payphone three blocks away from the Grand Continental Hotel.
I pressed the answer button, sliding it to speakerphone so both Christopher and Marcus could hear.
“Hello?” I said, keeping my voice completely neutral, devoid of emotion.
For a second, there was only heavy, frantic breathing on the other end of the line. Then, Chad’s voice burst through the speaker, frantic, cracked, and dripping with unmasked terror.
“Genevieve! Oh, thank God! Gen, pick up, please—listen to me!”
“I’m listening, Chad,” I replied calmly.
“Gen, there’s been some insane mistake! Some federal agency, they—they froze all my accounts! My cards are blocked, I can't even pay for breakfast, and the hotel manager is threatening to throw me and Brenda out onto the street! You... you have to help me!”
I couldn't help it; a cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips.
“Help you, Chad? The man who smiled while the bailiffs put handcuffs on my wrists? The man who promised to enjoy my money with Brenda?”
There was a sharp gasp on the other end. Silence stretched for a long, agonizing moment before Chad spoke again, his voice dropping into a desperate, pleading whine.
“Gen, please! I was just... I was under pressure! Brenda manipulated me, it was her idea, she made me do it!” he babbled instantly, throwing his brand-new partner under the bus without a second thought. “You know how I am, I’m easily influenced! But we have a son, Gen! Think of Toby!”
“Don’t you ever say my son's name,” I snapped, my tone instantly freezing the air in the room. “You traded Toby to my mother in exchange for full guardianship the moment I was sent to prison. You didn't care about him then, and you sure as hell don't care about him now that your stolen millions have vanished.”
“Gen—wait, how do you know about—?” Chad choked on his own words, finally realizing the horrifying truth. “You... you knew. All along, you knew.”
“I know everything, Chad,” I said softly. “I know about the shell companies, I know about the forensic tampering, and I certainly know that the two million dollars you stole didn't belong to a public corporate account.”
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“What... what do you mean?” Chad stammered.
“Ask yourself, husband,” I smiled coldly. “Why would a multi-billion-dollar private investment vehicle keep two million dollars sitting in a vulnerable corporate subsidiary? It wasn't an oversight. It was bait.”
