Chapter 2 - The Siege of Vance Global
The glass skyscraper of Vance Global Logistics towered over downtown Dallas like a monolithic fortress. Grant tore into the underground parking garage, tires squealing against the polished concrete. He sprinted into the private express elevator, aggressively pressing the button for the 50th floor—the executive suite.
When the elevator doors slid open, he wasn't met by Arthur’s usual warm receptionist. Instead, four tall men in tailored charcoal suits stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Out of my way," Grant barked, straightening his blazer. "I’m here to see Arthur. Tell him his daughter is throwing a hysterical temper tantrum and ruining business deals."
The lead security guard didn't blink. "Mr. Whitmore, you are no longer permitted on Vance Global property. Your access badge was revoked at 06:00 hours."
"Are you insane?! I am his son-in-law!" Grant shouted, trying to shove past them. "Arthur! Get out here!"
"Mr. Whitmore," a calm, razor-sharp voice echoed across the marble lobby.
Marcus Vance, Claire’s older brother and the Chief Legal Officer of Vance Global, walked out of the corner office. He was holding a thick leather folder. He looked at Grant with pure disgust.
"You're not his son-in-law anymore, Grant," Marcus said quietly. He held up a paper document. "This is a temporary restraining order issued by the Dallas County District Court. You are required to stay five hundred feet away from Claire Vance at all times. If you attempt to contact her, her family, or step foot on any property owned by the Vance family, you will be arrested immediately."
Grant’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Marcus, listen to me. This is a misunderstanding. Claire and I had an argument—she got dramatic, she slipped—"
Smack.
Marcus moved so quickly Grant didn't even see the movement. A single, furious left hook caught Grant square on the cheekbone, sending him stumbling back against the elevator doors. The four security guards remained completely motionless, looking straight ahead as if nothing had happened.
Grant clutched his jaw, gasping in shock. "You just assaulted me! I'll sue you into the ground!"
"I hit you once," Marcus whispered, leaning in so close Grant could smell his cedar cologne. "You struck my sister six times. If I were acting as her brother right now, you wouldn't leave this building alive. But I am acting as her lawyer. And as her lawyer, I am going to strip you of every asset, every stock option, and every shred of dignity you have ever possessed."
May you like
Marcus threw the legal papers onto Grant's chest. "Your board meeting starts in twenty minutes. I suggest you go back to your office, Grant. Arthur has already bought sixty percent of your company's debt from the secondary market. By three o'clock today, you won't even own the desk you sit at."
Grant felt a cold bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. The reality of his situation began to sink in like lead in his stomach. He wasn't dealing with a grieving wife; he was dealing with an empire he had stupidly mistaken for a bank account.
