Chapter 8 - The Legal and Financial Destruction
The offices of the Federal Trustee in the downtown judicial complex were bright, sterile, and completely devoid of mercy. Preston, Adele, and Weston sat on one side of the long steel conference table, their high-priced corporate defense lawyers sitting beside them with their heads lowered, their briefcases remaining closed.
Across from them sat Sable, her fingers casually playing with the gold-plated fountain pen Weston had dropped in the boardroom four years ago. Christian sat on her right, alongside three federal forensic accountants.
"Mr. Callaway," the lead trustee announced, setting down a thick stack of finalized rulings. "We have reviewed the cross-corporate assets submitted by the Reed Trust. The moral character provisions inside the original land grants, combined with the documented systemic identity fraud perpetrated by your executive assistant with the knowledge of your primary board, have invalidated your corporate indemnity protections."
"This is a personal matter!" Preston shouted, his voice cracking as he slammed his hand against the steel table. "A marital dispute cannot be used to liquidate a public holding company! Our shareholders will sue!"
"The shareholders have already sold their units, Mr. Callaway," Christian Reed said, a cold, clinical smile spreading across his face. "Reed Global Asset Management purchased ninety-two percent of the public float during the panic selling that occurred after the gala last night. As of nine o'clock this morning, the board has been dissolved. You are no longer executives. You are simply debtors."
The trustee nodded. "The court orders are absolute. The Callaway Tower, the regional luxury resorts, and the personal estates in the northern hills are hereby seized to satisfy the outstanding liens held by the Reed Trust. You have twenty-four hours to vacate the primary mansion."
Adele let out a soft, pathetic wail, her head dropping onto her husband’s shoulder. She had spent thirty years cultivating her image as the grand matriarch of Jiang City, and now, she was being evicted by the woman she had treated like a middle-class decoration.
Weston didn't say a word. He just stared at Sable, his eyes wide and completely hollow. He remembered the night Marlo was born—he remembered the smell of the roasted rosemary chicken that had gone cold, the feeling of his tailored gray coat, the cold arrogance in his voice when he told her he wouldn't put his name on their baby.
He had thought he was a giant choosing his destiny.
In reality, he had just been a blind man stepping off a cliff.
"Sable..." Weston whispered, his voice cracking as the trustees began to pack up their files. "Please... let me see Marlo. Just once. She’s my daughter. You can't keep her from her father forever."
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Sable slowly stood up, smoothing the front of her tailored emerald suit jacket. She looked down at him, her green eyes completely devoid of anger—there was only a vast, infinite distance inside them.
"You don't have a daughter, Weston," Sable said softly, her voice carrying the absolute weight of a sealed contract. "Four years ago, you looked into that bassinet and told me you wouldn't put your name on her. I told you to remember that moment, because it was the last one you’d ever get from us. I always keep my contracts, Weston. Enjoy the empty room."
