Chapter 7 - The Brother's Call
The expected storm from London hit at four o'clock that afternoon.
My phone remained quiet, but Daniel’s mobile phone began buzzing continuously with an international number displaying a British country code.
Daniel picked up the phone, placed it on speaker, and set it back on the table.
"Daniel!" Julian’s voice erupted through the speaker, refined, upper-class, but currently dripping with aristocratic panic. "What the absolute hell is going on over there? Mom called me fifteen minutes ago from a payphone near her attorney's office! She says you've frozen her accounts and turned the police on her!"
Daniel leaned over the phone, keeping his voice perfectly level. "Hello, Julian. How is London?"
"Don't play games with me, Dan!" Julian snapped. "Mom is seventy-two years old! You have her locked out of her bank accounts! My quarterly retainer transfer was supposed to clear yesterday, and the bank says the funds have been impounded under a federal injunction! Do you have any idea what kind of mess this puts me in?"
"I know exactly what kind of mess it puts you in, Julian," Daniel said. "Because I have the forensic audit reports right here on my desk. The transfers weren't 'retainers.' They were illegal offshore wire transfers paid for with money Mom stole from Emma’s trust fund."
Silence fell over the line from London.
"You... you know about that?" Julian stuttered, his arrogant composure cracking instantly.
"I know that you lost eight million dollars in high-risk currency speculation," Daniel said, reading directly from the private investigator’s summary. "I know that European regulators were preparing to indict you for fraud. And I know that Mom spent the last two years committing federal crimes here in Chicago to pay off your European creditors so you wouldn't end up in a court room."
"Dan... listen to me," Julian’s tone shifted rapidly from anger to slick, desperate pleading. "It was an investment emergency! I was going to pay the trust back! Every single penny! I just needed time to liquidate my commercial holdings in Manchester!"
"You don't have any commercial holdings in Manchester, Julian," I spoke up clearly, stepping closer to the microphone. "We ran a full asset search on your UK entities forty-eight hours ago. You are entirely insolvent. You’ve been living in a rented townhouse in Mayfair financed entirely by your niece’s stolen education fund."
"Who is that? Claire?" Julian spat, his venom redirecting toward me. "You little social-climbing viper! You've been poisoning Daniel's mind against this family since the day he brought you home! You're destroying our family name!"
"Your family name was destroyed when you chose to let your mother commit felony fraud to fund your lifestyle, Julian," I replied coldly. "And if you ever call my husband’s phone again, our legal team will forward these offshore transfer logs directly to the UK Financial Conduct Authority."
Julian let out a sharp, horrified gasp. "You wouldn't..."
"Try us," Daniel said. "The gravy train is over, Julian. You're thirty-eight years old. Figure out how to pay your own debts."
May you like
Daniel ended the call without waiting for a response, switching his phone to 'Do Not Disturb' mode and setting it face down on the table.
Arthur Pendelton leaned back in his leather chair, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Well executed, Mr. and Mrs. Mercer. The pressure on Margaret is now absolute. She has no financial reserves, no legal leverage, and her golden son cannot help her. She will be forced to negotiate a complete surrender."
