Chapter 12 - The Miami RaidWhile the media circus consumed Denver, my father and I were already executing the next stage of our operation from the Sterling Estate.
I sat in my father’s glass-walled study, wearing an oversized silk sweater, watching four live monitor feeds on a large desk display. On the screens were real-time views from Miami, Florida, where federal agents and Vance-Sterling Tactical officers were surrounding a luxury penthouse in South Beach.
"Evelyn Vance thought she could buy time by hiding in her offshore holding company's corporate suite," Arthur Vance said, standing beside my chair with a tablet. "What she didn't know was that your father bought the debt on that entire residential building three years ago."
On the monitor, the heavy wooden doors of the South Beach penthouse were breached by federal marshals executing a multi-state asset seizure warrant.
Evelyn Vance—clad in a silk robe, her platinum blonde hair in curlers, frantically shoving hard drives into a leather tote bag—was pinned against the marble floor by two female agents.
"Get your hands off me!" Evelyn screamed into the camera feed. "I am a senior corporate director for Vesper Limited! You have no legal right to touch my equipment!"
"Miss Vance," a federal agent declared on the audio feed, holding up a federal warrant, "you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit interstate wire fraud, money laundering, and illegal corporate espionage against Sterling Maritime."
I picked up the intercom microphone connected directly to the lead agent's earpiece in Miami.
"Evelyn," I said softly into the microphone.
Inside the Miami penthouse, Evelyn froze, hearing my calm, steady voice echoing from the lead agent's tactical vest speaker.
"Clara...?" Evelyn stammered, looking around in terror.
"The server you just tried to wipe was mirrored to my father’s system ten minutes ago," I told her, my tone laced with ice. "We have every wire transaction between you, Diego, and Brenna going back three years. You traded your freedom for five percent of a trust fund you’ll never see."
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"Clara, please!" Evelyn sobbed, her composure completely shattering as she was yanked to her feet in handcuffs. "It was Brenna! Brenna threatened to ruin my career if I didn't help Diego forge the trust transfer!"
"Save it for your grand jury testimony, Evelyn," I replied, cutting the line.
