Chapter 3 - Cutting the Lifeline
The execution began at precisely 8:30 AM, aligning with the opening of Mexico City’s financial exchanges and banking clearinghouses.
I sat beside Veronica’s financial forensic specialist, a quiet, bespectacled man named Mateo, who had plugged his encrypted terminal directly into my corporate accounts.
“First line of action,” Mateo said, his fingers dancing across mechanical keys. “The American Express Centurion master card. Cardholder: Ricardo Del Valle. Status: Supplementary User tied to Elena Vance Commercial Holding Group.”
“Revoke it,” I instructed.
“Done. Secondary cards: two Visa Infinite lines issued through Santander Private Banking, authorized for personal and entertainment expenses.”
“Revoke.”
“Done. What about the vehicle leases?”
“The Porsche 911 GT3 and the Range Rover Autobiography,” I said. “Both titles are held through my leasing shell, *Vance Fleet Services*. Transmit an immediate repossession order to the private security contractor. If those vehicles are parked on any public or private property outside of my corporate garage, they are to be impounded and secured by sunset.”
“The Range Rover is currently registered as parked at an estate in Valle de Bravo,” Mateo noted, glancing at the real-time GPS telemetry from the fleet management system.
“Send the flatbed,” I said without hesitation. “Let them figure out how to transport thirty wedding guests back to the city without an executive SUV.”
Next came the country club memberships. Ricardo prided himself on his golf handicap at the Club de Golf Chapultepec, where he entertained prospective investors and played eighteen holes every Thursday while I audited construction sites. His membership, valued at a two-hundred-thousand-dollar initiation fee with monthly maintenance costs of six thousand dollars, was corporate property.
By 9:15 AM, the general manager of the club had received an official corporate resolution removing Ricardo Del Valle as the designated corporate user, effective immediately. His locker was to be cleared and his access fobs deactivated.
Then came the private jet fractional share with NetJets. Ricardo frequently used my fifty-hour annual allocation to take weekend trips to Miami or Punta Mita, claiming he was networking with international real estate brokers.
“De-authorize his passenger manifest profile,” I ordered. “If Mr. Del Valle attempts to board any chartered flight under the Vance Corporate contract, he is to be informed that his profile does not exist.”
At 10:00 AM, my phone buzzed with an incoming email notification.
It was an automated security alert from American Express.
*Transaction Declined: Le Barthélemy Hotel & Spa, Gustavia, St. Barts.*
*Amount: $18,450.00 USD.*
*Reason: Card Revoked by Master Account Holder.*
I stared at the notification. Ricardo had just attempted to settle the preliminary deposit for their luxury honeymoon suite.
Two minutes later, a second alert flashed.
*Transaction Declined: Hermès, Gustavia.*
*Amount: $6,200.00 USD.*
*Reason: Card Revoked by Master Account Holder.*
He had taken Ximena shopping.
My phone began to ring. It was an international number originating from the French West Indies.
I hit *Ignore* and forwarded the number directly to an automated voicemail that simply recited corporate office hours.
“Now,” I said, turning back to Veronica, “let’s address Teresa’s quarterly disbursement.”
“The payment is scheduled to process through the automated clearing system on the first of next month,” Veronica replied, pulling up the family trust paperwork. “Seventy-five thousand dollars earmarked for ‘Residential Maintenance and Family Welfare.’”
“Cancel the authorization,” I said. “Furthermore, audit every single disbursement made to Teresa Del Valle over the past three fiscal years. If there are any discrepancies between the stated trust purposes and her actual expenditures—designer retail, personal travel, aesthetic clinics—prepare a civil suit for recovery of improperly diverted funds.”
“Understood,” Veronica said, her pen making a sharp, decisive slash across the paper. “What about the mistress?”
A cold, razor-thin smile touched my lips. “Ximena is an employee of Vance Development Group. Her situation requires a very specific... corporate intervention. But first, we need to handle the house.”
“The mansion?” Veronica raised an eyebrow. “It’s your private asset, Elena. But selling an eight-thousand-square-foot estate in Las Lomas usually takes six to twelve months.”
May you like
“Not when you price it to move,” I replied, standing up and opening my private contacts. “I know someone who has been trying to buy my property for three years.”
***
