“I want the entire house cleaned out,” Victor commanded, his voice cold and rhythmic as a metronome. “Liquidate Patricia and Celeste’s trust portfolios immediately to repay the stolen capital. If the portfolios do not cover the balance, seize their primary residences by morning. Cancel every single one of Elaine’s corporate and personal credit lines.”
Elaine let out a wretched, guttural sob, collapsing into her chair.
“And as for Adrian…” Victor turned his head slowly, locking eyes with his grandson. There was no familial love left in his gaze, only the cold calculation of a man deciding how to dispose of trash.
“Mr. Roth,” Victor instructed. “Draft the divorce papers tonight. The terms are non-negotiable. Adrian will surrender all marital assets. He will sign over sole physical and legal custody of the child to Lena, waving all visitation rights. He will accept zero alimony.”
Victor paused, letting the silence stretch.
“If he contests a single clause, if he hesitates for a fraction of a second,” Victor stated softly, “you will hand this entire, beautifully audited dossier directly to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I will personally fund the prosecution for wire fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny. I will ensure he rots in a federal penitentiary for the next twenty years.”
Adrian’s legs gave out completely. The golden-boy arrogance was entirely, violently broken. He fell to his knees on the antique Persian rug, weeping hysterically, the illusion of his untouchable power shattered into dust.
“Grandpa, please!” Adrian wailed, crawling slightly toward the head of the table, reaching out a trembling hand. “Please don’t do this! I’m your blood! I’m your grandson! I’ll pay it back! I’ll get a job, I swear, I’ll pay it back!”
Lena looked down at the man who had mocked her for being poor, the man who had threatened to throw her into a psychiatric ward just thirty minutes ago. Her expression was completely, terrifyingly blank.
“You can’t pay it back, Adrian,” Lena said smoothly, adjusting her baby’s frayed blanket one last time.
Adrian looked up at her, confused and panicked.
“Because as of five minutes ago,” Lena explained, gesturing to the laptop screen, “while your grandfather was speaking, I accessed the proxy servers. Using the authority of the original trust documents, I permanently froze every single one of your offshore accounts, your domestic checking, and your digital crypto-wallets. You have thirty-two dollars to your name.”
