Chapter 6 - The Digital Lockdown
Derek’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek. “That’s impossible. Try my personal American Express Centurion card.”
He tossed his personal card onto the counter. The attendant ran it.
Beep.
“Declined, sir.”
“What?” Derek snarled, his calm demeanor cracking. “Run the Barclays corporate debit card.”
Beep.
“Declined as well, Mr. Harper. In fact, all linked accounts under Harper Holdings appear to have a hard freeze placed on them by an emergency court order out of New York County.”
Alexis walked over, her diamond earrings swinging, her face contorting into an irritated pout. “Derek, what is going on? It’s two in the morning and it's twenty degrees outside. Tell them who you are!”
“Shut up, Alexis,” Derek snapped, the venom in his voice causing the younger woman to flinch backwards in shock.
Derek pulled his personal smartphone from his pocket, turning it over. He opened his banking app. A flashing red banner greeted him: ACCESS RESTRICTED. CONTACT YOUR COMPLIANCE OFFICER.
He quickly dialed Ethan Vance, his loyal operations manager in Buffalo. The call went straight to automated voicemail. He tried his uncle Gary Harper. The phone rang five times before Gary answered, his voice thick with sleep and irritation.
“Derek? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Gary, the accounts are frozen,” Derek hissed, stepping away from the counter into an empty corner of the private lounge. “Someone triggered a hard lockdown on the master credit lines. Did the feds execute a warrant on the docks?”
Gary went completely silent on the line. When he spoke again, his voice was no longer sleepy. It was freezing cold.
“You absolute idiot,” Gary whispered. “The feds didn't hit us. Your wife did.”
Derek froze, the air vanishing from his lungs. “What did you just say?”
“Hannah called an emergency board meeting at midnight,” Gary said, his tone dripping with disgust. “She had Arthur Vance and the entire Graham trust board on a video call. She presented every single wire transfer to Lakeshore Materials. She had the Delaware incorporation documents, the IP logs from your penthouse, and your private jet flight plan to Aspen with your little blonde assistant. She stripped you of your CEO title, froze every Harper Freight operating reserve, and filed an ex-parte emergency injunction barring you from corporate property.”
“She can't do that!” Derek roared, completely abandoning his composure. Several private terminal employees stared at him in alarm. “I’m the managing director! I have operational authority!”
“You had operational authority under the Graham family trust!” Gary shouted back. “The money was Julian Graham’s, Derek! The contracts, the land, the permits—they were all Graham assets held in trust for his daughter! You thought you were so clever siphoning off millions to run away with your mistress? You’re ruined! And because of your stupidity, the feds are auditing Harper Salvage’s waterfront accounts by sunrise! Do not call this number again. If you come near my docks, Derek, I’ll have the longshoremen throw you into the lake myself.”
The call went dead.
Derek stood frozen in the pristine, heated lounge, staring at the blank screen of his phone. The room seemed to tilt around him.
Hannah.
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Quiet, sweet, pregnant Hannah, who spent her evenings reading novels by the fire and sorting Aubrey’s preschool clothes.
She had known everything.
