Chapter 9 - Siphoned Futures
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Phase Two began with a quiet, comprehensive forensic audit of every financial document linked to Dylan Vance, Vance Capital, and the family trusts.
While Dylan was busy smiling for news cameras at his press conference, Julian Thorne's top financial investigator, a brilliant woman named Clara Vance (no relation), sat across from me in my home office, scrolling through spreadsheets displayed on three laptop monitors.
"Your husband was sloppy, Mrs. Vance," Clara said, tapping a stylus against her glass tablet. "He thought because he was the managing partner at Vance Capital, no one would ever look closely at the secondary subsidiary accounts."
"What did you find?" I asked, offering her a glass of water.
"It's not just the $500,000 sent to Lumina Design," Clara revealed, turning a monitor toward me. "Over the last four years, Dylan has systematically funneled over $3.2 million from your daughter’s educational trust fund into a private off-shore entity registered in the Cayman Islands."
My blood ran cold. "He stole from his own daughter's trust?"
"The educational trust was established using your late father's inheritance funds, correct?" Clara asked.
"Yes," I answered, my grip tightening on my coffee cup. "My father left $5 million specifically for Haley's future education and medical care when he passed away four years ago. Dylan was listed as a co-trustee only because we were married."
"Well, your husband used his co-trustee access to draft false investment management fees," Clara explained, showing me the digital paper trail. "Every quarter, $200,000 was moved out of Haley's trust under the guise of 'asset rebalancing,' and deposited directly into an account that paid for Sierra's luxury apartment lease, her son's private school tuition, and two sports cars registered under Sierra's name."
I stared at the numbers on the screen.
It was one thing to cheat on a wife; it was an entirely different level of evil to rob his own flesh and blood to fund his mistress's lavish life while leaving our daughter to face a life-threatening disaster without even checking if she was alive.
"Does Dylan know we have access to these specific ledger files?" I asked.
"Not yet," Clara smiled viciously. "He assumed because you were a stay-at-home mother for the last five years, you had forgotten about your father's estate structure. He thinks you're financially illiterate."
I let out a low, dark laugh.
Before I married Dylan, I had spent six years as a senior financial analyst for one of Wall Street's top hedge funds. I had given up my career to support his ambitions and raise our child, letting him believe he was the master strategist of our home.
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"He forgot who built his first portfolio," I whispered, my eyes burning with a freezing rage. "Clara, draft an immediate emergency motion to freeze the Cayman account and freeze all corporate distribution lines linked to Lumina Design."
"With pleasure, Mrs. Vance."
