Chapter 7 - The Desertion of Counsel
While federal agents were wrapping up their final asset sweeps, the high-priced legal team representing the Vance family was undergoing a catastrophic meltdown of its own.
In a sterile, windowless conference room at the downtown federal holding facility, Marcus Gable—the elite defense attorney who had spent two decades keeping white-collar criminals out of prison—slammed a thick file onto the stainless-steel table.
Across from him sat Lorraine and Thomas Vance, both wearing standard orange detention jumpsuits. Their hair was unstyled, their makeup was completely gone, and the arrogant glow of high society had been replaced by the hollow, panicked glare of cornered rats.
“What do you mean you’re dropping us?!” Lorraine shrieked, slamming her cuffed hands against the table. “We pay you a retainer of half a million dollars a year! You cannot just walk away!”
“I am not just walking away, Mrs. Vance—I am officially filing a motion to withdraw as your counsel of record,” Gable snapped back, his voice dripping with venomous contempt. He gathered his leather briefcase and clicked the latches shut. “When you hired me, you told me the lodge fire was an accident and the financial records were clean. You lied.”
“We didn't lie!” Thomas protested, his voice cracking desperately. “We just... omitted certain details!”
“You omitted the fact that your digital signatures are stamped directly onto the wire transfer authorizations for the shell company,” Gable roared, losing his professional composure entirely. “You omitted the audio recordings of you ordering the lodge manager to torch the building. The federal prosecutor showed me the complete evidence file this morning. There is no legal defense for you. You are looking at thirty to forty years in a maximum-security federal penitentiary without the possibility of parole. I am not committing career suicide by standing next to you in a courtroom.”
Lorraine’s face turned ghostly pale. Her knees gave out beneath her, and she slumped back into her metal chair, her mouth opening and closing like a fish pulled out of water.
“There has to be a plea deal,” Lorraine whispered, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “Tell them... tell them we’ll return the money. Tell them we’ll give up our shares in Ashford Ventures.”
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“Ashford Ventures doesn't exist anymore,” Gable said coldly, pausing at the heavy steel door. “The board voted unanimously at midnight to dissolve the parent company and strip your family name from every corporate asset worldwide. You are legally, financially, and socially nonexistent.”
The heavy steel door slammed shut behind him, leaving them alone in the sterile silence of the holding cell.
