Chapter 9 - The Legal Serpent|
Before I could digest my father’s revelation, a sharp knock sounded at the door.
One of Marcus’s bodyguards opened it, allowing a woman in her late fifties to enter. She wore an immaculate cream-colored pantsuit, her silver-streaked hair pulled back into a tight, flawless bun. She carried a sleek leather briefcase and walked with the absolute authority of a head of state.
“Mara, this is Amara Vale,” Marcus introduced her. “She handles my high-level corporate and legal acquisitions.”
Amara offered me a respectful, polite nod before placing her briefcase on the bedside table and clicking it open.
“Mrs. Vance, it is an honor to finally meet you,” Amara said in a smooth, sharp British accent. “Your father has kept us updated on your genius over the years. Vance Dynamics’ encryption suite is a masterpiece of software engineering.”
“Thank you,” I replied, still trying to adapt to this surreal reality. “Are you my lawyer now?”
“I am your weapon, Mrs. Vance,” Amara corrected cleanly. “I have already filed emergency injunctions in three federal courts. As of twenty minutes ago, Silas Vance’s voting rights on the Vance Dynamics board have been temporarily frozen pending a criminal investigation.”
She pulled out a thick stack of financial audits and laid them over my tray table.
“While reviewing the internal servers at Vance Dynamics last night,” Amara continued, pointing to a highlighted line of code, “my forensic team discovered something alarming. Silas didn't just steal your patents. He forged your digital signature on a transfer deed eighteen months ago.”
I leaned in, examining the document.
There it was—my personal cryptographic signature, authorizing the transfer of Vance Dynamics’ core defense encryption patents directly to a subsidiary of Kade Capital.
“That’s impossible!” I gasped. “My cryptographic key is stored on a physically air-gapped flash drive inside my desk at the office! No one has access to it except me!”
“Someone accessed your physical workstation while you were logged in, Mara,” Amara stated coldly. “Or someone with administrative access created a remote mirror session.”
A sudden memory flashed in my mind.
Six months ago, when I was experiencing terrible morning sickness, I had given my master administrator credentials to my personal assistant—a young, incredibly sweet man named Theo Bell, who had worked loyally for me for four years.
Theo was like a younger brother to me. He brought me ginger tea every morning. He remembered my father’s birthday.
“No...” I whispered, shaking my head in denial. “Not Theo. He wouldn't.”
Amara pulled out another sheet of paper—a hotel receipt from a luxury resort in Geneva from two months ago.
The reservation was under the name Theo Bell.
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And the credit card used to pay for the thirty-thousand-dollar stay belonged to Kade Capital.
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