Chapter 7 - The Final Audit
Eight months later.
The winter snow was falling gently over Columbus, Ohio, blanketing the manicured lawns of New Albany in thick white frost.
Inside the six-bedroom mansion that Ethan Vance had built with Julian’s stolen money, the atmosphere was far from luxurious.
A team of federal auditors from the Internal Revenue Service and state financial investigators sat at the heavy oak dining table in Ethan’s dining room, surrounded by boxes of financial receipts, bank statements, and tax filings.
Sitting across from them were Ethan and Eleanor.
Ethan was no longer wearing silk bathrobes. He was wearing faded sweatpants, his hair unwashed, panic frantic in his eyes. Eleanor looked frail, her expensive Fifth Avenue clothes replaced by cheap sweaters, her face lined with stress and exhaustion.
“Mr. Vance,” the lead IRS investigator said coldly, tapping a glowing tablet screen. “Our audit of your personal income records over the last four years reveals over eight hundred thousand dollars in undeclared wire transfers received from your mother, Eleanor Vance. Furthermore, these funds were miscategorized as non-taxable personal gifts, despite evidence showing they originated from corporate accounts linked to Julian Vance’s former employer.”
“It was a gift!” Eleanor interjected hysterically, her voice raspy. “I gave my son money! A mother is allowed to give her son money!”
“A mother is allowed to give gifts up to the annual exclusion limit, Mrs. Vance,” the auditor corrected strictly. “Beyond that, gift tax returns must be filed. Neither you nor your son filed a single tax form for eight hundred thousand dollars over four years. In addition, because these funds were derived from fraudulent wire conversions, the state is filing a lien against this real estate property.”
Ethan jumped to his feet. “A lien?! You can’t put a lien on my house!”
“It’s no longer your house, Mr. Vance,” the officer replied calmly. “Notice of civil forfeiture has been granted. This property will be put up for public auction in thirty days to satisfy back taxes, penalties, and unpaid civil judgments filed by Sterling Global Holdings.”
Eleanor let out a sharp cry and collapsed back into her chair.
“Where... where are we supposed to live?!” Ethan screamed, grabbing his head in terror. “Mom! Call Julian! Call Julian right now!”
Eleanor pulled her cheap cell phone from her purse with trembling hands and dialed Julian’s number. She placed it on speaker.
The phone rang four times before a tired, hollow voice answered.
“What do you want, Mom?” Julian’s voice echoed through the speaker.
“Julian! Oh, thank God!” Eleanor sobbed. “You have to help us! The government is taking Ethan’s house! They’re putting a lien on everything! We need two hundred thousand dollars by next week or we’re going to be thrown out on the street!”
Silence stretched over the line for several long seconds.
When Julian spoke again, his voice was utterly dead, stripped of all emotion.
“I earn three thousand five hundred dollars a month now, Mom,” Julian said flatly. “After tax, rent on my studio apartment, and my court-ordered child support for Leo, I have four hundred dollars left for groceries. I don’t have two hundred thousand dollars. I don’t even have two hundred dollars.”
“Julian! You’re my son!” Eleanor shrieked. “You can take out a loan! You can sell your car! You can’t let your mother and brother sleep on the street!”
“I offered my life for you, Mom,” Julian said, his voice cracking with a mix of bitter sorrow and finality. “I gave you my money, my self-respect, my marriage, and my son. And when I was down, you stood beside Ethan and told me to go make more money. Live with the son you chose.”
“Julian, wait—!”
Click.
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The line went dead.
Eleanor stared at the phone, tears ruining her face, as the IRS officers began slapping official government foreclosure seals onto the front windows of the mansion.
