Chapter 6 - THE UNRAVELING
The interior of the BMW smelled of panic, cheap perfume, and fast-food hash browns.
Daniel sat in the driver’s seat on the fourth floor of the public parking deck two blocks away from the Apex tower, his head resting against the steering wheel. He was hyperventilating, his breaths shallow and ragged, the edges of his vision swimming with dark spots.
“Daniel, what did Arthur say?” Patricia demanded from the back, leaning forward so far that her sour breath hit his neck. “When are we getting into the hotel? My back is killing me, and I need my blood pressure medication! Call the pharmacy and have them deliver it to the lobby!”
“He fired me, Mom!” Daniel shrieked, turning around in his seat, his eyes bulging. “He fired me! The FBI is looking at my accounts! There is no bonus! There is no money! We have nothing!”
A suffocating, dead silence fell over the vehicle.
Patricia blinked, her manicured hands freezing in mid-air. “What do you mean... no money? You’re an executive! You make half a million a year!”
“I was an executive!” Daniel yelled, his voice cracking into high-pitched hysteria. “Every dollar I had tied up in Apex was locked in equity shares! Arthur canceled them! All of it! The account with three million in mutual funds? Frozen! The offshore brokerage? Frozen! Richard Vance is Emma’s family! She owns everything! The house, the land, the firm’s credit line—she owns all of it!”
Vanessa let out an ear-piercing scream from the backseat.
“What about my boutique?!” she shrieked, grabbing Daniel’s headrest and shaking it wildly. “Daniel, the supplier in Milan is charging thirty-five thousand dollars to my credit card today for the fall inventory! If that card declines, they’ll blacklist me! Fix it! Transfer the money from your emergency savings right now!”
Daniel shoved her hands off his seat with an animalistic growl. “Are you deaf, Vanessa?! There is no emergency savings! Emma had power of attorney over the joint sweep account! It’s gone! The card you’re holding in your hand is probably a piece of useless plastic right now!”
To prove his point, Vanessa whipped her black American Express card out of her designer purse and tapped her mobile banking app.
The screen turned red.
*ACCOUNT STATUS: REVOKED BY PRIMARY CARDHOLDER.*
“No!” Vanessa wailed, throwing the titanium card onto the floor mats. “No, no, no! My TikTok followers... my sponsorships! I told everyone I was opening the flagship store on Greenwich Avenue next month! She can’t do this to me! That ungrateful little bitch! I gave her my old clothes! I let her clean my room!”
“Shut up! Both of you, shut up!” Daniel slammed his palms against the dashboard.
His phone—the personal iPhone that still had a sputtering, weak cellular signal through an unpaid secondary MVNO carrier—suddenly vibrated on the console.
The caller ID displayed a number he didn't recognize, but the area code was Fairfield County.
Daniel snatched it like a drowning man grabbing a frayed rope.
“Hello?! Arthur? Richard?”
“Mr. Daniel Sterling?” a woman’s crisp, administrative voice asked.
“Yes! Yes, this is Daniel! Who is this?”
“This is Officer Kowalski from the Greenwich Police Department, Commercial Crimes Division. I am calling to inform you that a warrant has been issued for the impoundment of the 2023 BMW 530i registered under Sterling Corporate Holdings. The leasing corporation has reported the vehicle as unauthorized collateral following an asset liquidation notice.”
Daniel’s heart stopped.
“The car?” he whispered, his voice cracking down the middle. “You’re... you’re taking the car?”
“The vehicle’s GPS transponder has localized your position to the Bell Street parking structure in Stamford,” the officer continued dispassionately. “An immobilization unit is en route. We advise you to remove your personal belongings and leave the keys in the glove compartment to avoid an additional charge of obstruction.”
“Wait! Please! My mother is seventy-two years old!” Daniel begged, tears of pure, unadulterated humiliation spilling over his cheeks. “We have nowhere to go! We don't have a hotel! You can’t leave us on the sidewalk!”
“You have twelve minutes, Mr. Sterling. Have a good day.”
The call disconnected.
“Daniel?” Patricia whimpered, her arrogant facade completely shattered, looking suddenly like an old, frail, terrified woman. “Daniel, who was that? Who is coming?”
Daniel didn't answer.
He stared through the windshield at the concrete wall of the parking garage. Through the ramp opening, he could see the distant glass pinnacle of the Apex Capital tower piercing the grey clouds.
Just twelve hours ago, he had stood in the warm, scented foyer of his six-bedroom home, laughing as he kicked his daughter’s crutches across the hardwood floor, basking in the absolute conviction that he was a king, an untouchable suburban god who could discard a human being like a candy wrapper.
Now, he was sitting in a car that didn't belong to him, surrounded by two screaming, useless women, with twelve minutes before armed officers threw him onto the asphalt.
And then, his phone vibrated once more.
A single text message popped up on the cracked screen. It was from an unregistered, end-to-end encrypted sender.
*Do you understand yet, Daniel?*
Daniel’s fingers shook violently as he pressed the call button on the number.
He didn't care about his pride. He didn't care about his mother. He didn't care about his sister.
May you like
He hit dial, put the phone to his ear, and listened to the line ring.
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