Julian stared at Marcus, his mind racing as the noise of the ballroom faded into a dull, terrifying hum. The legal documents resting on the iPad screen seemed to glow under the harsh lights of the estate.
Julian: An audit? We passed our internal audit last month!
Marcus: This isn't an internal audit, Julian. This is from the Department of Justice. And her name was at the bottom of the signature line.
Julian: What name, Marcus? Who is she?!
Marcus: Elena Vance. Special prosecutor for the federal financial crimes division.
Julian: That's impossible! Elena Vance is in Washington!
Marcus: She landed in Dallas two hours ago, Julian. And you just assaulted her in front of a hundred witnesses and fifty active smartphone cameras.
Julian: She was creeping up on my sick mother! I was protecting my family!
Marcus: The video floating around online doesn't show that. It shows you violently throwing a federal prosecutor into a glass table while she was holding an official court subpoena.
Julian slammed his fist against the marble pillar beside him, his jaw clenching in sheer panic. The high-key lighting of the ballroom suddenly felt blinding, making him break out into a cold, heavy sweat.
Julian: Delete the footage! Call the estate security team and wipe the local servers!
Marcus: It's too late for that! Guests have already posted it live on news blogs. Channel Four is running it on the late broadcast right now!
Julian: Then call our legal team! Get five defense attorneys on a conference call immediately!
Marcus: Julian, you don't understand. She didn't come here to serve a simple subpoena. She came because she already froze our offshore bank accounts twenty minutes before she entered the building.
Julian: She froze the trust fund?!
Marcus: The trust fund, the corporate payroll, and your personal credit lines. Everything tied to Sterling Global is locked down tight.
Julian stumbled back, grabbing the edge of a heavy gilded chair to steady his weak legs. The massive business empire his family had spent forty years building was crumbling in a single evening, all because he let his short temper get the better of him in front of his wealthy peers.
Julian: Where is she now? Where did she go?
Marcus: Her car left for the private airfield ten minutes ago. She's flying back to D.C.
Julian: Get my car ready! I'm going to the airport!
Marcus: You can't go to the airport, Julian! The police are already outside waiting for your statement regarding the assault!
Julian: I don't care about the police! If I don't talk to her before she files those fraud charges tomorrow morning, we lose everything!
Julian sprinted through the open double doors of the mansion, completely ignoring the flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers pulling up the long estate driveway. He jumped into his black luxury sedan, revving the powerful engine until it roared. He slammed on the gas, tearing across the manicured front lawn to bypass the initial police blockade near the gates. He was going to find Elena Vance, no matter what it took to save his name.