Chapter 6

Thursday morning brought a formal legal notice,

delivered to my office by a very nervous courier,

and printed on thick,

expensive legal stationary.

Carol had hired the most aggressive corporate law firm in the city,

and they were threatening to sue me for breach of fiduciary duty,

claiming my withdrawal of support was malicious and unprovoked.

I read the threatening document twice,

and then I laughed out loud in my empty office,

because they had clearly underestimated my preparation.

I picked up the phone,

and I called my own attorney,

a brilliant man named Marcus who specialized in estate law.

"Did you receive the love letter from Carol?"

Marcus asked,

sounding highly amused by the entire situation.

"I did,"

I replied,

"and it is full of empty threats and hot air."

"Exactly,"

Marcus confirmed,

"the guarantor clause your grandfather wrote is absolute,

meaning you can withdraw consent for any reason,

or for no reason at all."

"But there is something else,"

Marcus continued,

his voice dropping into a serious,

hushed tone.

"I dug into the trust's historical ledgers,

just like you asked me to do on Monday."

"And?"

I prompted,

feeling my pulse begin to race with anticipation.

"Carol has been commingling the trust's capital,"

he explained,

"using the primary principal to secure her own personal loans."

I gripped the edge of my desk,

and a cold wave of realization washed over me,

as the puzzle pieces finally snapped together perfectly.

"That is why she was so desperate for the plaza project,"

I said,

"she needs the massive payout to cover her illegal tracks,

before the annual audit discovers the missing capital."

"Precisely,"

Marcus agreed,

"if that plaza loan falls through,

she is not just looking at a failed business venture,

she is looking at massive civil liability,

and potentially federal wire fraud charges."

My grandfather had built a completely bulletproof trust,

designed to care for generations of our family,

but Carol had treated it like her own personal piggy bank.

She used the money to buy loyalty,

to hand out cruel five-hundred-dollar envelopes,

and to force everyone to bow down to her vanity.

"Draft a petition for an emergency audit,"

I instructed Marcus,

"and file a motion to have her temporarily suspended as trustee,

pending a full investigation by a neutral third party."

"It will be filed by noon,"

Marcus promised,

"and the judge is going to rubber-stamp the suspension,

the second he sees the financial discrepancies."

I hung up the phone,

and I looked at the framed picture of my family on my desk,

feeling a profound sense of justice arriving.

Carol thought she was invincible because she held the purse strings,

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