Chapter 5 - The Velvet Counter-Strike
Sienna reached out to slide the document under a file folder, but my left hand came down flat on the paper, pinning it to the marble.
"Don't touch that, Sienna," I said softly, looking directly into her wide hazel eyes.
"Elise, you are completely out of line!" Preston snapped, grabbing my wrist with enough force to leave red marks.
"Release my wrist, Preston," I said, my voice dropping an octave into absolute, freezing authority.
"Or the two federal marshals parked at the end of the driveway will be inside this kitchen in forty-five seconds."
Preston froze, his fingers loosening their grip as his eyes darted nervously toward the front windows.
"What are you talking about?" he scoffed, though the arrogant baritone had thinned into nervous bluster.
"You haven't called anyone. You've been locked in the nursery since two in the morning."
"I don't need to call anyone, Preston," I said, picking up the conservatorship petition and holding it up to the kitchen light.
"My father called them two years ago before he took his final breath."
Sienna took a step backward toward the hallway, her leather portfolio clutched tightly against her stomach like a shield.
"Preston... what is she talking about? You said the inheritance trust was entirely under your executive control."
"It is!" Preston shouted, slamming his fist onto the island so hard the espresso cups rattled on their saucers.
"I am the managing trustee of the Sterling Estate! I hold the voting proxy!"
"You held a temporary administrative proxy, Preston," said a deep, aristocratic voice from the foyer.
The heavy oak front door had swung wide open, letting in the cool, crisp morning air and the scent of damp pine needles.
Arthur Vance, my father's senior legal counsel and the chairman of the Cook County Probate Bar, walked into the kitchen.
He was seventy-one years old, dressed in an immaculate charcoal three-piece suit, accompanied by two men in dark trench coats holding black leather folios.
"Good morning, Elise," Arthur said, offering me a warm, grandfatherly bow of his head before turning his icy gaze upon Preston.
"Arthur?" Preston stammered, the color draining from his face until he looked like an unpainted canvas.
"What are you doing here? Our quarterly review isn't until next Thursday."
May you like
"There will be no quarterly review, Mr. Vale," Arthur replied, gesturing to the two men behind him.
"Because as of 6:00 AM this morning, the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York issued an emergency seizure order for all assets linked to Project Horizon."
