Chapter 4 - The Infiltration of the Office
By 9:00 a.m. on Friday, the war had shifted from the quiet suburbs of Lake Forest to the glass-walled high-rises of downtown Chicago.
The executive office of Hale Logistics was a monument to modern power—forty floors above the Chicago River, with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the gray, mist-covered harbor. Victor sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his fingers flying across his keyboard, while Arthur Ramos—no relation to Richard—and a forensic accountant named Clara Vance sat opposite him.
"We found the connection, Victor," Arthur said, sliding a thick blue folder across the desk. "Derek Bennett isn't just a disgruntled ex-husband. He’s the regional operations manager for Midwest Shipping Co.—our primary competitor for the Great Lakes port contracts."
Victor didn't look up from his screen. "And Richard Ramos?"
"Ramos has been on Midwest’s payroll for three years," Arthur explained. "He’s the one who drafted their regulatory challenges to our city dock permits last winter. If he can force Clara into a high-profile custody deposition, he’ll have the right to subpoena her employment records—which means he’ll have access to our secure household expense logs, our private security protocols, and the personal trust agreements you set up for the boys."
"He wants the Zurich account codes," Victor said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous frequency.
"Absolutely," Arthur said. "He knows that Helen’s family left her share of the shipping trust to the boys, and that you are the sole trustee. If he can prove you are an unfit father who allows a 'volatile domestic environment' to exist in your home, he can petition the court to have a neutral state-appointed trustee take over the fund. That trustee would be selected from a list of corporate attorneys—and Richard Ramos is at the top of that list."
"They're trying to steal my sons’ inheritance through a custody battle for a seven-year-old girl," Victor said, standing up and walking to the window. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still a dark, heavy gray, reflecting off the cold water of the river below.
"What's the move, Victor?" Arthur asked.
"Call Pete Miller at the dockworkers' cooperative," Victor said, his voice level and steady. "Tell him to stop all shipments to Midwest’s Chicago terminal by Monday morning. If they want to play dirty with my nanny’s daughter, they’re going to find out that the road between their warehouse and the harbor runs right through my backyard."
The door to the executive office opened, and Clara Bennett stepped inside.
She wasn't wearing her work apron; she wore a simple, dark green wool coat that covered her clean blue shirt, her hair pulled back into a neat, disciplined bun. She carried a small leather folder in her hand.
"Mr. Hale," Clara said. "The school called. Derek is at the principal’s office. He’s trying to use the emergency custody order to pick up Lily from her classes."
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Victor didn't hesitate. He grabbed his wool coat from the hanger, buttoned it to the chin, and looked at his security guard standing by the door.
"Get the car," Victor said. "We’re going to school."
