Chapter 4 - THE COST OF FREEZING EVERYTHING
Wendy’s decision to freeze the company accounts protected what remained of her money.
It also stopped payroll.
By Monday morning, forty-three employees at Reyes Strategy Group had not received their scheduled direct deposits. Vendors called before sunrise. A government subcontractor warned that interruption of services could trigger a breach notice.
Wendy had acted quickly because she was terrified.
She had not understood how many legitimate payments were connected to the same accounts Gregory had used.
Marcus worked with the bank to create a controlled account for verified payroll and essential expenses, but the review would take time. Wendy had to advance part of the payroll from her personal savings while the bank authenticated each payment file.
Her operations director, Naomi Bell, confronted her in the office conference room.
“You should have told senior staff before freezing everything.”
“I discovered fraudulent spending connected to Gregory.”
“You discovered suspected fraud. Then you shut down accounts that fund people’s rent and medical insurance.”
Wendy felt the instinct to defend herself rise.
She forced it down.
“You’re right.”
Naomi had worked for her for seven years. She did not soften.
“Gregory created the danger. But you gave him authority, and then you made another unilateral decision when you panicked.”
The words landed because they were true.
Wendy had built Reyes Strategy Group from a folding table in her grandmother’s dining room. Growth had rewarded her decisiveness until decisiveness became a belief that consultation was weakness.
Gregory had encouraged that belief.
He praised her when she ignored lawyers, accountants, and compliance staff. He told her rules were obstacles created by people who lacked courage.
Now Wendy could not tell where his manipulation ended and her pride began.
Marcus presented the preliminary findings that afternoon.
The wedding expenses totaled eighty-six thousand four hundred dollars. The amount included the florist, catering deposit, musicians, rental furniture, clothing, photography, and a luxury travel agency reservation for Gregory and Isabella.
But those charges were only recent activity.
Over eighteen months, Gregory had authorized approximately six hundred twelve thousand dollars in transfers and expenses requiring further review.
Some appeared legitimate.
Others were routed through consulting companies with vague names: Lakeview Advisory, North Meridian Services, and Bellweather Outreach.
All three had received payments just below Wendy’s internal review threshold.
“Who owns them?” she asked.
“We’re still confirming,” Marcus said. “But North Meridian’s registered address is a mailbox. Lakeview was formed by a lawyer who has created entities for Richard Vance.”
Amelia placed a page beside the report.
“And Bellweather Outreach paid for the appraisal of your house.”
Wendy stared at the date.
The appraisal had been ordered four months earlier.
Two days after Isabella borrowed the pearl earrings.
“Why would an outreach company appraise my home?”
“Because someone wanted the charge hidden inside your business records,” Marcus said.
The valuation was much higher than Wendy expected. The report estimated the Oakhill property at six million eight hundred thousand dollars, largely because of its oversized lot and development potential.
The house was not merely a family home.
It was collateral powerful enough to rescue a failing company.
Amelia had obtained public financial records connected to Alder Crest Holdings. Richard’s company faced several lawsuits and had loans maturing within weeks. One lender had already filed a notice alleging covenant violations.
“The four-million-dollar credit facility on the blue page may have been bridge financing,” Amelia explained. “Your house would secure the loan long enough for Richard to refinance other obligations.”
“What happens if Alder Crest defaults?”
“The lender could pursue the collateral, assuming the pledge were valid.”
Gregory had not been planning to live happily in the house with Isabella.
He had been preparing to risk it for his father.
Wendy thought of the guests in the garden. Several had seemed older and more formal than wedding guests. They had barely reacted to the dress, the flowers, or the confrontation. They watched the folder.
“Some of those people were lenders,” she said.
Amelia nodded.
“The wedding may have been a performance. A public demonstration that Gregory controlled you, the property, and your personal life.”
Wendy called the florist and catering company herself. She explained that the charges were disputed because Gregory lacked authority to use the card for personal expenses, but she did not demand that the small businesses absorb the entire loss. Amelia advised her to negotiate temporary holds while the card issuer investigated.
The florist, a woman named Denise, sounded exhausted.
“Mr. Vance told us you approved everything as a gift.”
“I didn’t.”
“He sent emails from your company address.”
Wendy asked Denise to forward them.
The messages came from Wendy’s account.
They included personal language, payment authorization, and a closing line Wendy used often:
Make it beautiful. Details matter.
Wendy had not written them.
But the sender data showed they had been transmitted through her authenticated company account.
Marcus examined the headers.
“Someone logged in with your credentials.”
“Gregory knew my old password.”
“The account required a security code.”
Wendy checked the authentication history.
The code had been sent to her phone during a dinner with Isabella four months earlier.
Wendy remembered leaving the phone on the table when she went to the restroom.
When she returned, Isabella was holding it.
“You received a call,” Isabella had said.
Wendy had believed her.
That evening, Amelia received the first response from Gregory’s attorney.
It denied theft, denied forgery, and asserted that Gregory had acted with Wendy’s full authorization.
Attached was a signed memorandum dated three years earlier.
It promised Gregory thirty percent ownership of Reyes Strategy Group upon marriage—or upon completion of “substantial operational contributions,” whichever occurred first.
May you like
The signature at the bottom was Wendy’s.
This time, she knew it was real.
