Chapter 7 - The Strategy Meeting: Turning the Tables on Marcus Vance
The sprawling glass-walled study on the top floor of the townhouse became our war room.
Maps of Manhattan corporate districts, financial schematics of Vance Industries, and printed dossiers of Marcus Vance’s inner circle were spread haphazardly across a massive mahogany conference table.
Julian sat at one end, shaking his head slowly as I paced back and forth near the floor-to-ceiling windows, while Chase leaned against the edge of the desk, watching my every move with a dark, intense fascination.
“You want to go on the offensive,” Julian summarized, tapping a pen against his leather notebook.
“You want us to leak fabricated intelligence suggesting Chase is liquidating his primary tech holdings, forcing Vance to overextend his capital reserves on a hostile takeover trap.”
“Exactly,” I nodded, stopping my pacing to lean over the table.
“Marcus Vance is arrogant. He thinks he’s the smartest man in any room he enters. If he believes Chase is vulnerable and distracted by personal matters, he’ll rush his next financial move. He’ll commit funds that are currently tied up in unverified offshore accounts.”
Julian stared at me for a long, silent moment before looking up at Chase.
“Where did you find her, Chase? She has the tactical mind of a corporate raider.”
Chase let out a low, dark chuckle, a genuine smile finally touching his lips.
“She spent four years putting herself through college while working two jobs, Julian. She knows how to survive when the numbers don’t add up.”
“That’s fine in theory,” Julian countered, adjusting his tie.
“Even if we successfully bait Vance into overextending, it doesn't solve our immediate security crisis. What about the federal audit? What about the subpoena risk if Vance’s P.I.s manage to trace your credit card transactions from Brooklyn, Chase?”
Chase’s expression hardened instantly.
“They won't trace them. I already had my IT security team scrub every public database, landlord ledger, and utility bill associated with Claire’s Brooklyn address. Legally, she never lived there.”
“Scrubbing databases leaves a digital footprint, Chase,” I reminded him quietly.
“A forensic digital audit by a seasoned investigator can recover deleted server logs in less than forty-eight hours. If Vance’s team digs into the property records of my old building before it was sold, they’ll find the cash payments I made to the landlord.”
The room went dead silent.
Julian whistled softly through his teeth.
“She’s right, Chase. If Vance gets a court order for the landlord’s personal bank statements, those cash deposits will point straight to an anonymous tenant whose physical description matches your description of the woman you’ve been searching for.”
Chase stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor.
“Then we buy the building,” Chase stated flatly.
Julian blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Chase said, his voice dropping into a cold, absolute command.
“Buy the entire Meridian Tower residential block through an anonymous shell corporation by sundown. Acquire every lease, every tenant ledger, and every digital backup file. If there’s paper trail leading to Claire, I want it locked in a vault where no federal judge or corporate raider will ever touch it.”
Julian stared at his boss for three seconds, realized arguing was entirely pointless, and snapped his briefcase shut.
“Consider it done, Mr. Rowe. I’ll have the acquisition papers drawn up before lunch.”
As Julian turned and strode out of the study, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him, the room grew quiet again.
Chase walked slowly across the expanse of the room until he was standing right in front of me.
He reached out, his warm hands gently cupping my face, his dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my heart race.
“You amaze me, Claire,” he whispered, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.
“Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me.”
“I’m just trying to keep us alive, Chase,” I whispered back, resting my hands against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.
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“I know,” he replied softly, leaning down to press his forehead against mine.
“And I promise you, by the time this is over, Marcus Vance will regret the day he ever decided to cross my family.”
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