Chapter 6 - The Fall of Sloane Whitaker
While the Winslow family was being systematically stripped of their ill-gotten luxury, Sloane Whitaker was facing her own personal nightmare across town at the glass-fronted offices of Whitaker Public Relations.
Sloane had not slept a single minute. She had spent the night desperately calling her firm’s top corporate clients, trying to damage-control the rumors that were spreading like wildfire across the state's business circles. But by eight in the morning, the situation had escalated from a professional crisis to a complete catastrophe.
When Sloane stepped out of the elevator into her penthouse office suite, she was met with silence.
The bustling floor of publicists, media strategists, and junior agents was completely empty. Desktop computers had been unplugged, whiteboards had been wiped clean, and half a dozen legal investigators were busy cataloging files from the central server room.
"What is the meaning of this?" Sloane shrieked, dropping her designer handbag onto the reception desk. "Where is my staff? Who authorized you to touch my servers?"
A tall woman with short silver hair and a sharp navy suit walked out of Sloane’s corner office. It was Evelyn Vance.
"Good morning, Miss Whitaker," Evelyn said pleasantly, setting a legal document on the desk. "Your staff were informed two hours ago that Whitaker Public Relations has been placed into emergency receivership."
"Receivership? You can't put my firm into receivership! I am the sole owner!"
"You were the sole owner," Evelyn corrected her, taking a pair of reading glasses from her pocket. "Until you accepted a three-million-dollar emergency loan from a private lender last year to cover your firm’s tax liabilities. That loan was underwritten by an entity called Apex Commercial Credit. Apex is a subsidiary of Fairchild Capital."
Sloane’s face went ghastly white. Her breath hitched in her throat. "No... no, Apex was an offshore firm based in the Cayman Islands..."
"Which is entirely owned by Arden Fairchild," Evelyn said with a cold, professional smile. "Under the terms of your default clause—triggered by your fraudulent involvement in the Winslow Development share transfers—Apex has exercised its right to seize one hundred percent of your company’s equity and assets to satisfy the debt."
"This is personal!" Sloane screamed, her fists clenched so hard her manicured nails bit into her palms. "Arden is doing this out of jealousy! Because Blake chose me over her!"
Evelyn paused, looking at Sloane with a mixture of pity and utter contempt.
"Jealousy?" Evelyn asked softly. "Miss Whitaker, Arden Fairchild controls financial networks that influence global markets. She spent eight years holding back her immense power out of a misguided sense of loyalty to a man who proved to be utterly worthless. She is not jealous of you. She is simply clearing away an annoyance."
Evelyn gestured toward two uniformed officers who stepped out from the hallway.
"Furthermore," Evelyn continued, "the State Financial Crimes Enforcement Division has opened an investigation into your offshore accounts. These gentlemen are here to ensure you do not leave the jurisdiction while your personal assets are audited."
Sloane took a step back, her back hitting the cold glass wall of the lobby. She looked down at her hands, which were now trembling uncontrollably. The luxury lifestyle, the high-society connections, the power she had spent her entire life chasing—all of it had evaporated in a single morning.
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"Blake..." Sloane whispered desperately, grabbing her personal phone. "Blake will help me... he has legal teams..."
"Mr. Winslow," Evelyn said as she walked toward the elevator, "is currently sitting in an interrogation room at the county courthouse. I suggest you retain a very good public defender, Miss Whitaker. You are going to need one."
