Chapter 10 - The Market Crash
Silence—total, paralyzing shock—vibrated across the satellite frequency before Evelyn’s ragged breath broke through.
“Damon...” she choked out, her voice stripped of all its haughty aristocratic poise. “You monster. Where are my men?”
“They’re currently kneeling in the mud of Crestview Manor, Evelyn,” Damon said, his voice deceptively pleasant, like a nephew checking on a beloved relative. “The same mud you forced my sister to scrub hours ago.”
“Listen to me, you arrogant whelp!” Evelyn snarled, recovering her venom. “You think capturing a few mercenaries makes you invincible? I control thirty billion dollars in capital assets! I control the banks, the courts, and the commerce federation! You are nothing compared to the Vance Dynasty!”
“Then check the financial markets, Aunt Evelyn,” Damon said softly. “The Asian markets opened ten minutes ago.”
He severed the call without waiting for her response, tossing the tactical radio onto the stone pavers where Raymond crushed it under his combat boot.
Four hundred miles away, Evelyn slammed her telephone onto her desk, her chest heaving violently. “Lucas! Turn on Bloomberg! Now!”
Lucas scrambled to the wall-mounted television, switching to the international financial news channel.
The ticker tape at the bottom was flashing a violent, blinding crimson.
“Breaking News: Massive short positions targeting the Vance Conglomerate in Hong Kong and London. Over twelve billion dollars in institutional dumping recorded in the last fifteen minutes. Vance Group stock down sixty-two percent and halted due to circuit breakers.”
“What?!” Lucas screamed, grabbing his hair in pure disbelief. “That’s impossible! Who has the capital liquidity to dump twelve billion dollars in fifteen minutes?!”
The anchor on the television continued, her voice urgent: “Reports indicate the Sovereign Consortium, the world's most secretive private equity powerhouse, has declared Vance Group insolvent and called in all underlying collateral bonds, effective immediately.”
Evelyn collapsed into her leather armchair, the blood completely draining from her face. Her lips turned an unnatural shade of blue.
“The Sovereign Consortium...” she whispered, her voice barely an audible rasp. “Arthur’s son... he isn't just a survivor. He is the master of the Consortium.”
Suddenly, the private line on Evelyn’s desk shrieked.
With trembling hands, she picked up the receiver. It was the Chief Executive of the National Banking Authority.
“Madame Vance, I am legally required to inform you that by executive order of the financial board, all personal and corporate assets belonging to the Vance family trust have been placed into receivership. Your villa, your luxury vehicles, and your private bank accounts are frozen.”
“You can’t do this!” Evelyn shrieked, tears of sheer panic finally breaching her cold facade. “I am Evelyn Vance! I funded your political campaign!”
“You funded it with stolen money, Madame Vance,” the official replied icily. “Federal marshals are en route to your residence with an arrest warrant for corporate embezzlement, murder conspiracy, and treason. Good luck.”
The line went dead.
Lucas dropped to his knees, sobbing hysterically. “Mother... we’re ruined. We have nothing left! Where do we run?”
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Evelyn stared blankly at the shattered pieces of her teacup on the floor.
Just then, the iron gates of her northern villa groaned under the weight of an armored convoy smashing straight through the courtyard.
