Chapter 7 - The Transatlantic Wire
Elena swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear, her voice tight with tension. “Vance? What is it? I just received a letter from Julian Vance’s archive.”
“Elena, drop whatever you’re doing,” Vance’s voice barked through the speaker, breathless and laced with urgent panic. “The federal prosecutor just called me. Your parents didn't just forge a routine power of attorney yesterday. The five hundred thousand dollar cash buyer who wired the funds for the lakehouse? He isn't a normal real estate investor.”
Elena gripped the marble edge of the concierge desk. “What are you talking about? Who bought the house?”
“An anonymous shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands called Meridian Holdings,” Vance said rapidly, papers rustling furiously on his end of the line. “And according to the international financial intelligence unit, Meridian Holdings is a direct front for a disgraced real estate syndicate that your father was heavily indebted to ten years ago. They weren't funding a round-the-world vacation, Elena. They were paying off a six-figure gambling debt by handing over your property as collateral!”
The lobby lights seemed to dim around Elena as the horrifying puzzle pieces slammed together. Her parents hadn't just acted out of selfish vanity or a desire for first-class champagne; they had used her inheritance as a pawn in a dangerous criminal underworld.
“Can the FBI freeze the transaction?” Elena demanded, her amber eyes flashing with fierce determination.
“We tried,” Vance replied grimly. “The wire transfer cleared the escrow account twenty minutes before Agent Miller intercepted your parents at JFK. The money has already been split across three offshore shell accounts, and the buyer—a man named Victor Vance, no relation to Julian—just filed an expedited emergency injunction in the New York Supreme Court demanding immediate physical possession of the lakehouse.”
Victor Vance. The name sent an icy shiver straight down Elena's spine.
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“Get my private jet ready,” Elena said, her voice dropping into a cold, unbreakable register. “I’m cutting the Paris trip short. We’re flying straight to Lake Placid. If Victor Vance wants my grandmother’s property, he’s going to have to dig it out from under my feet.”
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