Chapter 3 - The Stolen Trust Fund
The grand ballroom descended into total, unmanageable chaos as catering staff immediately began clearing the champagne flutes from the tables.
The string quartet packed their instruments into velvet cases, leaving the vast hall in a suffocating, echoing silence.
Charlotte collapsed onto her knees in the middle of her train, sobbing hysterically into her lace veil.
“Daddy! Fix this!” Charlotte wailed, clawing at Charles’s trousers.
“Julian’s family is watching! Tell them you have the twenty-million-dollar dowry!”
Julian’s father, Richard Thorne, stepped out from the front row, his aristocratic face hardening into pure, unadulterated venom.
“Charles, what is the meaning of this?” Richard demanded, slamming his silver walking stick onto the floor.
“You signed the notarized affidavit stating that Charlotte was the primary beneficiary of the Montgomery Family Trust!”
I let out a soft, mocking laugh that cut through the room like a razor blade.
I walked slowly down the center aisle, my six-inch heels clicking in steady, rhythmic perfection against the polished wood.
“The Montgomery Family Trust belongs to me, Richard,” I said, looking down at the disgraced groom and his father.
“My maternal grandmother, Katherine Montgomery, left her entire two-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar logistics empire to her firstborn granddaughter—Vivienne.”
I turned my gaze toward Charles, whose hands were shaking so violently he couldn't even wipe the cold sweat from his eyes.
“Twenty years ago, after my mother married Charles, my father forged my signature on the probate registry while I was still a minor.”
“He used my inheritance to buy his country club memberships, purchase your luxury penthouses, and fund Charlotte’s European shopping sprees.”
“He spent twenty years telling this city that I was an awkward, useless spinster so that no one would ever ask why I didn't claim my own trust.”
Dominic stepped up beside me, placing his arm securely around my waist, his towering presence radiating absolute, untouchable power.
“For three years, Vivienne allowed your family to play your pathetic games because she wanted to observe every transaction you executed,” Dominic revealed.
“Our forensic auditing team decrypted your offshore accounts in Panama at three AM this morning.”
“Every single cent Charles stole from Vivienne’s trust was used as illegal collateral to secure loans for Sterling Enterprises.”
“And forty-five minutes ago, the Federal Northern District Court signed an emergency asset freeze on every account bearing the Sterling name.”
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Beatrice let out an ear-piercing scream, clutching her chest as she collapsed onto a nearby chair, hyperventilating in sheer terror.
The golden family was not just broke; they were facing the absolute destruction of their entire social and financial existence.
