Chapter 51 - THE MISSING TRUST FUND
"Preposterous!" Sterling roared, violently shoving his chair back as he stood, his aristocratic facade shattering into raw panic. "A photograph and a coincidental blemish on an American beggar’s skin! You think you can waltz into England and stage a coup based on fairy tales? David Vance was stripped of all association with this family! He died an impoverished exile!"
"He died a billionaire who founded Vance Global Logistics," I replied with devastating composure. "And his holdings were transferred to me before his death. But David's wealth is only half of the equation."
I motioned to Arthur, who stepped forward and slammed a thick ledger onto the table before Beatrice and Sterling.
"Over the past twenty-four hours, forensic auditors from Zurich and New York reviewed the primary trust," I said, watching Sterling’s eyes dart wildly. "In 1991, Sterling diverted eighty million pounds through a shell company registered in Guernsey to cover gambling debts at the Clermont Club. In 1998, another forty million was stolen to bail out failed shipping ventures in Singapore. All forged under the supposed authorization of Lady Eleanor’s vacant estate."
"You have no jurisdiction here!" Sterling hissed, sweat beading across his hairline. "This is British sovereign soil! The Ashford Trust operates under private peerage covenants!"
"Not anymore," Katherine’s voice suddenly rang out, clear and cutting through the tension.
Sterling spun toward his daughter in disbelief. "Katherine! Hold your tongue!"
Katherine stood up, her face resolute, carrying a USB drive in her hand. "I’ve spent five years managing your private accounts, Father. I knew you killed Aunt Eleanor. I found the apothecary receipts in the private vault three weeks ago. I kept quiet because I thought there was no one left to protect this house. But David’s son is here."
She walked down the length of the table and placed the digital drive directly into my hand.
May you like
"The offshore ledgers," she whispered, looking into my eyes. "Everything you need to liquidate him."
"Traitorous whore!" Sterling screamed, lunging across the table toward his daughter, but Laurent materialized from the shadows near the doorway, intercepting Sterling with a vice-like grip on his wrist, twisting it behind his back until the nobleman fell to his knees with a choked wail of pain.
