Chapter 2 - The Digital Trail
Vesper arrived at the hospital room an hour later, wheeling a sleek, titanium-framed medical chair alongside a junior investigator carrying a heavy leather briefcase. Vesper was a woman who looked like she could negotiate a hostile takeover before finishing her morning espresso. She took one look at my leg brace, then at my blazing eyes, and a slow, appreciative smile crossed her lips.
""I see the family reunion went well,"" Vesper dryly remarked, dropping a thick sheaf of printed financial records onto my tray table. ""While you were in surgery, my team ran a quick preliminary trace on that unauthorized resort charge. It wasn't an isolated incident, Fallon.""
She flipped open the folder to reveal a neat ledger of wire transfers, credit card charges, and bank drafts spanning the last three years.
""Your parents didn't just raid your trust for the wedding,"" Vesper continued, pointing a manicured finger at a highlighted column of numbers. ""They’ve been siphoning funds from your engineering consulting startup account. Every time you landed a major client deposit, Althia transferred a percentage to a secondary holding account under Sutton’s name to fund her lifestyle boutique.""
My stomach churned. The money I had saved through grueling, high-risk inspections on cargo ships and aircraft hangers—money I had sacrificed holidays, relationships, and physical safety to earn—had been stolen piece by piece by the people who gave birth to me.
""Can we freeze the accounts?"" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
""We can do better than that,"" Vesper said, pulling a laminated document from her briefcase. ""Remember that NDA and asset-sharing clause your father made you sign three years ago when you used the family name for your initial business registration? It contains a clawback provision. If it can be proven that any party committed financial fraud or intentional sabotage against the primary shareholder—that’s you—all shared assets, including the family estate and their primary retirement accounts, revert to judicial receivership until an audit is complete.""
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I stared at the papers. My parents had drafted that clause to trap me, assuming I would always be the compliant, obedient daughter who bowed her head and took the blame. They never dreamed I would use it to dismantle them.
""Let's go to the resort,"" I said, adjusting the straps of my black leg brace. ""Sutton wants a wedding spectacle? I'm going to give her a finale she'll never forget.""
