Chapter 4 - The Squeeze Tightens
Back in the cab of the Ford F-150, the radio crackled with an encrypted transmission.
"Captain, this is Maeve. The Frankfurt bank just called Desmond’s office. They’re officially recalling the thirty-million-dollar bridge loan."
I stared through the cracked windshield at the Queens street corner. "Timeline?"
"Forty-eight hours," Maeve said. "If they can't inject thirty million in cash by Friday morning, the bank triggers default proceedings. Every commercial property they own goes to auction. And Vanguard Holdings holds the primary debt certificates."
"Bingo," I said.
Dad sat in the passenger seat, whittling a piece of pine. A curl of wood shavings fell onto his denim jeans. He didn't look up, but a faint grin touched his lips.
"They think wealth is about what's in the bank, Juliet," Dad said quietly. "They don't understand that true power comes from leverage. When you control the debt, you control the air they breathe."
My phone buzzed with an email from Jackson. It was a surveillance photo taken outside the Pierce family’s Park Avenue penthouse. Desmond looked ten years older, his tailored suit hanging loosely. Margot stood beside him, her face caked in makeup.
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"They're trying to liquidate personal assets," Jackson reported. "Selling art, listing the Hamptons estate, trying to pull cash from overseas accounts. But we’ve slapped federal injunctions on their primary holdings. They’re boxed in."
"Don't let up," I commanded. "Tighten the perimeter."
