Richard’s mind raced, searching his memory. Vance & Associates? The top international corporate defense firm?
"Victoria Vance?" Richard stuttered, sweat suddenly glistening along his hairline. "I... I don't even know her! I've never done business with her firm! Why would she file an injunction against Croft Holdings?!"
"She didn't file it because of your business, Richard," Marcus replied coldly. "She filed it because your wife, Evelyn Croft, spent the last hour at The Grand Sovereign Hotel falsely accusing Ms. Vance of grand larceny, summoning police officers to arrest her, and defaming her in front of fifty international executives and live streaming cameras."
Richard felt the blood drain from his head so fast that his vision flickered black at the edges. The mahogany table, the glass walls, the surrounding investors—everything seemed to warp around him.
"Evelyn...?" Richard whispered, his voice cracking.
"Ms. Vance serves as our lead legal counsel, Richard," Marcus continued, completely relentless. "She informed our board that any financial entity maintaining active credit lines with your firm will face immediate conflict-of-interest litigation and capital withdrawal from her syndicate's network. Effective immediately, the forty-million-dollar credit facility is terminated. All existing escrow accounts associated with Croft Real Estate Holdings have been frozen pending a full legal audit."
"Marcus, wait! Please!" Richard shouted, standing up so fast his leather chair crashed backward onto the carpet. "It was a mistake! Evelyn is foolish, she doesn't know what she's doing! Let me talk to Ms. Vance! Let me fix this!"
"You can't fix a volcano after it erupts, Richard," Marcus said flatly. "Good luck with your legal defense. You're going to need it."
The line went dead with a quiet click.
Chapter 12: The Viral Inferno
Inside the boardroom, the silence was agonizing. The four investors from Sterling Capital stood up simultaneously, their faces hardened into stoic masks of corporate self-preservation.
Arthur Vance closed his leather folder, sliding his fountain pen back into his breast pocket. He looked at Richard with a mixture of disbelief and utter disgust.
"Richard," Arthur said quietly, brushing a piece of lint off his suit jacket. "The credit line is dead. We are legally bound to suspend all negotiations with your firm immediately."
"Arthur! Listen to me!" Richard pleaded, stumbling around the mahogany table, his hands outstretched. "We've known each other for ten years! You know my project is solid! You can't ruin my life over a ridiculous fight between two women in a hotel lobby!"
Arthur stopped, looking at Richard with icy detachment.
"A 'fight between two women'?" Arthur repeated, shaking his head. "Richard, your wife publicly accused Victoria Vance—the most dangerous corporate lawyer on the Eastern Seaboard—of stealing a handbag. She called the police on her. She had officers threaten her with unlawful arrest. Do you have any idea who Victoria Vance is?"
Richard’s breathing was shallow and ragged. "She's... she's a lawyer..."
"She is the chief legal strategist for three sovereign wealth funds and five luxury conglomerates," Arthur corrected him harshly. "She doesn't just win cases, Richard; she dissolves corporations for breakfast. If Victoria Vance decided to destroy you today, there isn't a bank in this country that will lend you a single dime."
Arthur turned to the other three investors. "Pack your materials. We're leaving."
Without another word, the four representatives of Sterling Capital walked out of the conference room, leaving Richard standing alone amidst the wreckage of his executive suite.
Suddenly, Sarah, his assistant, held up her tablet, her hands shaking so violently the screen rattled.
"Mr. Croft..." Sarah whispered, her voice choking back tears. "It's... it's everywhere."
"What's everywhere?!" Richard yelled, pulling his silver tie loose as if he were suffocating.
"The video," Sarah stammered. "The two executives who recorded the incident in the hotel lobby... they uploaded the raw footage to social media fifteen minutes ago with the headline: 'Billionaire's Wife Falsely Accuses Top Black Attorney of Theft in Luxury Hotel — Gets Instantly Exposed by 4K Security Camera.'"
Richard snatched the tablet from her hand.
The video had already amassed over three million views, fifty thousand retweets, and thousands of outrage comments calling for a complete boycott of Croft Real Estate Holdings. On the screen, Evelyn’s hysterical face was captured in clear, high-definition resolution as she screamed at Victoria Vance, followed immediately by the devastating footage of the hotel manager proving Evelyn’s assistant had taken her bag to her own car ten minutes earlier.
The comment section below the video was an absolute execution ground: