Chapter 5 - The Insolvent DynastyThe frosted glass doors of the executive conference room swung open violently, and Madison stepped inside, her high heels clicking loudly against the polished hardwood floor.
She was wearing a bright red designer dress, carrying an expensive leather shoulder bag, but her face was flushed with anger, her makeup slightly smudged.
"Brandon!" Madison shrieked, ignoring the three executives sitting at the table. "What the hell is going on?! Dad is losing his mind at the house! He’s screaming at Mom, and two men in black suits just parked a tow truck in our driveway to repossess Dad's Mercedes!"
She stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes finally taking in the sprawling, forty-story view of the city skyline, the mahogany conference table, and the three high-powered attorneys staring at her with cold, professional detachment.
She blinked, her arrogant demeanor faltering for a fraction of a second. "What... what is this place?"
"This is my company, Madison," I said smoothly, leaning back in my leather chair and gesturing toward the empty seat at the foot of the table. "Welcome to Vanguard Logistics."
Madison swallowed hard, looking around the room before turning back to me, her voice rising into an irritated whine. "Look, I don't care about your little office! Dad said you blocked his credit cards, and now my card was declined at the salon this morning! I need you to fix it right now! I have my flight to L.A. booked for Thursday!"
Sarah Lin let out a short, quiet scoff, turning a page in her blue binder.
Madison whipped her head toward Sarah. "What's so funny?!"
"What's funny, Miss Carter," Sarah said calmly, looking up over her reading glasses, "is that the credit card you used at the salon this morning was an authorized user card linked to your father's commercial equipment account—an account that was officially liquidated by federal bankruptcy receivers at 6:00 a.m. today."
Madison's face drained of color. "Liquidated? What are you talking about?!"
"I bought your father's commercial debt six months ago, Madison," I explained, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the glass table. "Every asset. Every lease. Every credit line. As of eight o'clock this morning, my firm executed a full asset freeze on every account associated with Richard and Eleanor Carter."
"You... you can't do that!" Madison stammered, stepping toward my chair. "They're your parents! I'm your sister!"
"You're a twenty-six-year-old woman who hasn't worked a real job in four years," I corrected her coldly. "And the house you've been living in, the car you've been driving, and the salon bills you've been charging were paid for with stolen money."
Madison stared at me, her mouth open. "Stolen? What money?!"
Marcus Vance picked up a single-page document from the folder and held it out toward her.
"Three point five million dollars stolen from your late grandfather Arthur's estate," Marcus stated flatly. "Money that legally belonged to your brother, Brandon. Your parents spent eight years hiding it in Cayman Islands shell accounts while forcing Brandon to pay for their mortgage."
Madison looked down at the paper, then looked at me, her eyes wide with a terrifying mixture of confusion and sudden, desperate greed.
"Three... three point five million?" Madison whispered, her voice suddenly dropping its angry edge. "Brandon... if Dad stole three point five million from Grandfather Arthur... then part of that money should be mine too! We're brother and sister! You have to share it with me!"
I looked at my older sister—at her complete, stunning lack of remorse, her utter inability to see beyond her own selfish desires, and her immediate attempt to claim a piece of the stolen pie.
I slowly stood up from my chair, buttoning my suit jacket.
"My grandfather left that money to me, Madison," I said, my voice cold as winter iron. "And every single cent that your parents stole will be returned to my holding company by court order. You have twenty-four hours to pack your clothes and clear your things out of my house before the locks are changed."
"Brandon, please!" Madison cried out, reaching toward my arm as I walked past her toward the door. "You can't do this to me! Where am I supposed to go?! I don't have any money!"
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I stopped at the glass doors, looking back over my shoulder at her.
"You can do what I did when I was eighteen, Madison," I told her quietly. "Get a job."
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