Chapter 4 - The First Glitch
|
Back at the Napa Valley estate, the reception was reaching its grand crescendo.
String lights twinkled beneath the wooden pergolas, and five-tier crystal chandeliers hung from the open-air pavilion. Ivan stood at the center of the head table, swirling a glass of five-thousand-dollar vintage Cabernet, accepting lavish praise from silicon valley executives and high-society socialites.
Brenda sat beside him, preening in her diamonds, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“You handled your mother perfectly, darling,” she purred, brushing her manicured hand over his shoulder. “Can you imagine if she had been in the family photographs? That faded blue dress would have ruined the entire layout for Vogue Weddings.”
Ivan took a sip of his wine, though a strange, uncomfortable knot remained tight in his stomach. He remembered the calm look in my eyes right before I walked away. I hadn't cried. I hadn't raised my voice.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Ivan thought to himself, shaking his head to clear the thought. “She’s just an old woman who realized she didn't belong.”
Suddenly, the head catering manager appoached Ivan from behind, bowing slightly with a nervous expression.
“Mr. Whitmore, apologies for the interruption,” the manager whispered frantically.
Ivan frowned, putting down his glass. “What is it? We are about to start the toasts.”
“It’s the primary corporate card you provided for the remaining event balance, sir,” the manager said, holding out a small mobile terminal. “The wire transfer for the final two hundred thousand dollars was just rejected by the processing bank.”
Ivan chuckled condescendingly. “Don't be absurd. That’s an unlimited Black Card backed by Whitmore Family Capital. Run it again.”
The manager swiped the heavy metal card through the machine. A harsh red LED light flashed, accompanied by an electronic beep.
DECLINED - ACCOUNT FROZEN.
Brenda’s mother, sitting across the table, noticed the commotion and raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem, Ivan?”
Ivan’s face flushed red with sudden heat. “Of course not, Evelyn. Just a minor glitch with the bank’s security servers. Give me a moment.”
He pulled out his phone and tapped his banking app to manually clear the transaction. But when the screen loaded, his heart skipped a beat.
May you like
Where his primary corporate checking balance usually displayed an eight-figure sum, a bold red message blinked back at him:
ACCOUNT STATUS: SUSPENDED BY TRUSTEE INSTRUCTION.
