Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Net
By 8:30 AM, the Pacific Northwest financial markets were in open revolt.
The trade floor of the Pacific Exchange was a sea of flashing red numbers. The ticker for Vale Broadcast Group (VBG) had plummeted forty-eight percent within the first fifteen minutes of the opening bell. Advertisers were pulling their contracts in droves; major auto manufacturers, national retail chains, and luxury brands were releasing identical statements terminating their relationships with Vale Media due to "unforeseen governance and ethical breaches."
At the Vale family estate in Medina—a sprawling, twelve-acre compound guarded by wrought-iron gates—Madison Vale stood in the middle of her two-story dressing room, throwing crystal perfume bottles against the mirrored wall.
*Shatter!*
A five-hundred-dollar bottle of Baccarat Rouge smashed into the reflection of her own face, sending shards raining across the plush ivory carpet.
“It’s not fair!” she screamed, her hair a wild, unbrushed tangle, her makeup from the night before smeared like soot beneath her eyes. “Where is my lawyer? Why isn't Daddy fixing this?!”
Her personal assistant, a young woman named Chloe who had endured three years of Madison’s tantrums, stood trembling near the door, holding an iPad.
“Miss Vale... your American Express Centurion card was just declined,” Chloe whispered.
Madison spun around, her eyes bloodshot. “What did you say?”
“The bank... they placed an administrative hold on all primary and supplementary cards linked to the Vale Family Trust,” Chloe stammered. “And the boutique in Paris called. They cancelled the delivery of your custom gowns for the summer season. They said... they said your account has been flagged for insolvency risk.”
“Insolvency?!” Madison shrieked, marching toward the terrified assistant. “Do you know who my father is? He can buy that French boutique and turn it into a parking lot!”
Before Chloe could answer, the double doors of the dressing room burst open.
Grant Vale walked in. He wasn't wearing his usual bespoke suit. He had on an unbuttoned dress shirt, his tie undone, his hair disheveled, and his face a sickly, blotchy gray. He looked ten years older than he had twelve hours ago.
“Get out,” Grant growled at the assistant.
Chloe didn't wait to be told twice. She bolted through the door, leaving her iPad on the vanity.
Madison turned to her father, her lower lip trembling with indignant rage. “Daddy! What are the lawyers doing? The press is outside the gate! There are news vans everywhere! Tell the security team to shoot their tires out!”
Grant slowly lifted his head. The look in his eyes made Madison freeze mid-sentence. It wasn't the look of a doting father who was about to write a check. It was the look of a ruined gambler staring at an empty table.
*Slap!*
The sound cracked like a whip across the silent dressing room.
Madison fell sideways onto the velvet chaise, clutching her right cheek with both hands. Her eyes were wide with pure, disbelieving shock. In thirty-two years of life, her father had never raised his voice to her, let alone his hand.
“Daddy...?” she gasped, tears instantly springing to her eyes.
“You stupid, arrogant, reckless little bitch,” Grant whispered, his chest heaving, his fingers trembling with rage. “Do you have any idea what you did last night? Do you have any idea who that woman was?”
“She’s... she’s Nicholas Bennett’s wife!” Madison sobbed, her cheek blazing red. “So what? We have lawyers! We have senators!”
“We have nothing!” Grant roared, stepping over the shattered perfume glass and grabbing her by the lapels of her silk robe. “The senators won't take my calls! The Department of Justice just raided our corporate headquarters in downtown Seattle! They took every server, every hard drive, every file from my private office! They were waiting for us, Madison! That woman had been auditing our accounts for six months!”
Madison’s breath caught in her throat. “Six... six months?”
“She wasn't there by accident!” Grant shouted, shaking her violently before shoving her back onto the chaise. “She didn't show up to flirt with your pathetic boyfriend! She was finishing her forensic trail! All she needed was the confirmation link between our shell accounts and Everhart’s AI grant logs! And you... you absolute imbecile... you walked right up to the woman holding the guillotine rope, insulted her, and ripped her clothes in front of four hundred witnesses!”
Madison began to shake uncontrollably. The reality of the world she had broken was finally crashing through the fortress of her vanity.
“Lucas...” she whispered. “Lucas will help us. He can tell the police that—”
“Lucas just held a press conference,” Grant said, his voice dropping into a hollow, dead whisper.
He reached over, picked up the iPad Chloe had left behind, and shoved the screen in front of Madison’s face.
There, broadcast live on every national news network, was Lucas Everhart standing behind a podium in the grand lobby of Bennett Tower. Standing on his right was Nicholas Bennett. Standing on his left was the United States Attorney for the Western District of Washington.
Lucas looked straight into the cameras, his voice steady, holding an authenticated ledger in his hands.
*“I am here today to take full responsibility for my failure of oversight,”* Lucas was saying. *“For the past eighteen months, Vale Broadcast Group, under the direct personal supervision of Grant Vale and Trustee Madison Vale, has systematically diverted over seventy million dollars in philanthropic funds meant for pediatric cancer care into private offshore accounts. I have turned over all cryptographic keys and corporate records to the Vance-Bennett Foundation and federal investigators. I am resigning my position, and I will testify fully for the government in all forthcoming criminal proceedings.”*
Madison stared at the screen, the blood draining from her lips until they were completely white.
“No...” she whimpered. “No, he wouldn't...”
Suddenly, the wail of sirens began to echo from the long private driveway outside the estate.
Grant looked toward the window. A grim, defeated sigh escaped his lungs. He walked to the vanity, picked up a glass of tap water, and drank it slowly.
May you like
“They’re here,” Grant said quietly. “Pack your things, Madison. You wanted to show that waitress where she belonged. Now you’re going to find out where you belong.”
***
