Chapter 5

The angle grinder screamed, throwing a shower of orange sparks across the concrete floor. I was watching the crew weld the final hinges onto the inner blast door when my phone buzzed in my pocket. 

Arthur Sterling. I wiped the grease off my hands with a rag and answered. "Tell me you have good news, Arthur.""I have news," 

Arthur's crisp voice came through the speaker. "Mr. Thorne filed an emergency injunction at nine this morning. A judge just granted it. Your joint accounts and any assets tied to the marital estate are going to be frozen as of ten 10:00 

"I didn't flinch. I just leaned against the cold steel of the doorframe. "He actually did it," I said. "He believes he has secured a leverage point," Arthur said, sounding deeply unimpressed. "He thinks he's trapped you, Miss Vance..

 I advised him that the irrevocable trust is untouchable, but he's proceeding under the assumption that the liquid capital in your joint checking and savings is marital property.""Let him think that," I said, a slow smile spreading across my face.

 "Arthur, I need you to draft a counter-filing. Cite the precedent we discussed. But more importantly, I need you to stall his lawyers for exactly forty-five minutes.""Forty-five minutes?""Give or take. 

I have a deposit to make."I hung up and tossed the rag onto a workbench. Marcus thought he was playing chess. He didn't realize I was the one who owned the board.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the private VIP suite of First National Bank, sipping a complimentary espresso. The branch manager, a nervous man named Henderson, was staring at my screen like I'd asked him to wire him a kidney."Miss Vance," Henderson stammered, adjusting his glasses.

 "You want to liquidate... all of it? The joint checking, the savings, the offshore brokerage?""Every cent," I said. "But I don't want it transferred. I want it converted."I slid a piece of paper across the mahogany desk. 

"Twenty million in physical gold bullion. Ten million in untraceable, cold-storage crypto hardware wallets. And the remaining balance in hundred-dollar bills, banded and boxed."Henderson paled. "Physical gold? Miss Vance, that's nearly four hundred pounds of metal. We'd need to arrange an armored transport.""No transport," I interrupted. 

"I have a team waiting at the loading dock. You just need to authorize the withdrawal from the vault. The injunction hits the federal registry in about twenty minutes.

 I need the assets cleared from your servers before the freeze code propagates."Henderson swallowed hard. He looked at the black Amex on the desk, then at the cold, dead-eyed stare I was giving him.

 He was a banker. He knew a loophole when he saw one, and he knew better than to argue with a woman who had a hundred and fifty million in liquid assets."I'll make the calls," he whispered.While Henderson scrambled, I closed my eyes and reached inward. The spatial void hummed to life. It was getting easier to access, the migraine fading to a dull throb.

 I pushed my consciousness into the blackness. It was vast. And it was about to get a lot heavier.When Henderson's staff finally wheeled out the heavy, reinforced lockboxes of cash and the pallets of gleaming gold bullion, they loaded them directly into the back of my rented box truck at the private loading dock.

 I told the guards I needed a moment to secure the cargo.Once the bay doors were shut, I placed my hand on the first pallet of gold. Pull.The air warped. The three-hundred-pound pallet vanished with a soft thwump.

 I gritted my teeth as a spike of pain drove through my temples. I reached for the next pallet. Pull.Then the cash. Box by box. The physical toll was mounting, my nose starting to bleed, but I didn't stop until the truck bed was completely empty.

 I checked my mental map. The gold sat in perfect, gleaming stacks. The cash was neatly organized. The crypto drives were tucked safely in the corner.

 I wiped the blood from my upper lip with the back of my hand and smiled. Marcus wanted a fight over money. I was about to take the money and leave him fighting over air.I walked out of the loading bay and into the main lobby of the bank. Right on cue, the glass doors swung open. 

Marcus strutted in. He was wearing a new suit, his arm in a sling, looking incredibly smug. Beside him was his sleazy lawyer, the one from the warehouse, clutching a briefcase like a shield. Marcus spotted me and his face broke into a vicious, triumphant grin.

 "Scarlett!" he called out, his voice echoing in the quiet lobby. "Fancy meeting you here. I hope you aren't trying to make any withdrawals. 

Your accounts are a little tied up right now."I stopped in the middle of the lobby, crossing my arms. I didn't say a word. I just looked at him. His lawyer stepped forward, adjusting his tie. 

"Miss Vance. As of ten o'clock this morning, a federal injunction—""I know," I interrupted, my voice flat. Marcus laughed, a loud, obnoxious sound. "You know? Then you know you're done.

 You locked me out of the house, you humiliated my mother, and you thought you could hide the money. But guess what? The law is on my side. Half of that cash is mine, Scarlett. And you can't touch it."He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with petty, vindictive joy. "Come home. 

Apologize to Chloe. Apologize to my mother. Sign the settlement papers, and maybe I'll let you keep a little allowance."I stared at him. The sheer, staggering stupidity of the man was almost breathtaking. 

He really thought this was how the game was played."Arthur," I said, not looking away from Marcus. My lawyer stepped out from the private suites, holding a thin manila folder. He walked over and handed it to Marcus's lawyer. 

"What is this?" Marcus's lawyer asked, opening it. His eyes scanned the first page. His face instantly drained of color. "It's a receipt," I said softly. Marcus frowned. 

"A receipt for what?"I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and turned the screen toward him. The balance read: $0.00.Marcus stared at the screen.

 His brain short-circuited. He looked at his lawyer, then back at me. "That... that's a glitch. You just moved it. The injunction—""The injunction froze the accounts at ten o'clock," I said, my voice dropping to a freezing, lethal calm. 

"At nine-fifteen, I liquidated every cent. The money isn't frozen, Marcus. It's gone.""Gone?!" he shrieked, his composure shattering. "You can't just hide money! I'll sue you! I'll have you arrested for fraud!""You can try," I said. "But the gold is in a private, unregistered vault.

 The cash is in bearer bonds. And twenty million is currently sitting in an untraceable crypto ledger. Good luck subpoenaing a blockchain, darling."Marcus's knees actually buckled. 

He grabbed the back of a velvet seating chair to keep from falling. The smug, arrogant bastard was gone. In his place was a panicked, broke little boy who just realized he'd lost his only meal ticket. "You... you ruined me," he whispered, his voice trembling.

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. I leaned in, my mouth inches from his ear. "I didn't ruin you, Marcus," I whispered, my voice laced with pure, unadulterated sass. 

"I just stopped paying for you."I pulled back, looked him dead in the eyes, and blew him a slow, mocking kiss. "Checkmate, darling. Try not to starve.

"I turned on my heel and walked out of the bank, the heavy glass doors swinging shut behind me. I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I could feel his devastation radiating through the glass. 

I walked out to my truck, climbed into the driver's seat, and let out a long, slow breath. 

The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a cold, hard satisfaction. I closed my eyes and checked the mental map one last time. 

Mountains of gold. Stacks of cash. The crypto drives. I had a literal fortune sitting in a pocket dimension inside my head. Marcus was standing in a bank lobby with a frozen account and a mountain of legal fees.

 The divorce was going to be a bloodbath, but I had already won the war. I started the engine. I had thirty days left to prepare, and now, I had unlimited funding. 

I pulled out onto the main road, the city skyline reflecting in the rearview mirror. My phone buzzed in the cup holder. I glanced at the caller ID.

 It was a number I hadn't dialed in three years, but one I had memorized. Maya Lin.I smiled, a real, genuine smile, and pressed accept.