Chapter 11 - A Traitor in the Ranks
By Friday afternoon, the fallout from the Hayes scandal had decimated the city’s upper crust. Ethan Hayes was being held without bail at the metropolitan detention center after Marcus Kane agreed to a full plea deal, handing over encrypted hard drives detailing years of financial manipulation.
Margaret had suffered a nervous breakdown in custody after learning that her designer shoe collection and antique jewelry had been auctioned off by the court to pay restitution to the Mercer trust.
Brenda had fled to a cheap motel three states away, but Vance intelligence operatives had already flagged her passport, freezing her offshore payout before she could withdraw a single dollar.
Inside the sprawling penthouse at the top of the Vance Tower, Claire stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, looking out over the glittering cityscape. A glass of vintage bordeaux rested untouched on the marble counter behind her.
Arthur walked in quietly, his face unusually grave.
“Mrs. Vance,” he said, pausing several paces behind her.
Claire didn't turn around. “Has Ethan’s formal arraignment date been set?”
“Yes, ma’am. Next Tuesday at 10:00 AM. He has no bail, and his state-appointed attorney has already indicated Ethan intends to plead guilty in hopes of a reduced sentence.”
“Good,” Claire said softly. “Then why do you look as though the battle has just begun, Arthur?”
Arthur hesitated, pulling a thick, unlabelled black tablet from his leather portfolio. He swiped across the screen and placed it on the counter beside her wine glass.
“Brenda Mills was interrogated by our private investigators before local authorities took her into custody,” Arthur explained, his voice low and tense. “She didn't just stumble into Marcus Kane’s office by accident, Claire. She was paid a half-million-dollar advance six months before she ever met Ethan Hayes.”
Claire turned slowly, her brow furrowing. “Paid by whom? Kane didn't have that kind of liquid capital before the embezzlement began.”
“Not Kane,” Arthur said, his eyes darkening. “The wire transfer came through a blind Swiss trust linked to an entity called The Obsidian Group.”
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Claire’s heart stopped.
The Obsidian Group was the rival shipping conglomerate that her late father had fought against for three decades—the very conglomerate suspected of orchestrating the suspicious plane crash that took her parents' lives six years ago.
