Chapter 50 Property Transfer
Selena's POV
I looked at the undisguised worry on my parents' faces, and the softest part of my heart was touched.
They were my safe harbor.
I knew that with just one word from me, they would build walls around me, shielding me from all the storms outside.
But that wasn't me.
I wasn't some delicate flower that needed to be protected in a greenhouse. I was Selena Hart, the kind of person who could bloom even in the wilderness.
After they left, I sat alone in my room when Anna's call came through again.
I thought she was calling to confirm contract details, so I casually put it on speaker.
"Miss," Anna's voice, for the first time, sounded panicked, even trembling slightly, "something's happened."
My heart sank.
"Tell me."
"We... one of Astraea Fund's independent accounts, just now, had a sum of up to two hundred million dollars transferred out."
My mind went blank for a moment.
Two hundred million dollars.
The Astraea Fund was something I'd established with my own first earnings—my real "private money," completely independent from the Hart family business. That account was the core of the core, with only me having the highest level of access.
"How is that possible?" My voice was cold as ice. "What about the authorization codes? The dynamic passwords? Without my final iris scan confirmation, who could touch that money?"
"That's exactly the problem, Miss." Anna's voice was full of regret and self-blame. "They... they bypassed all the modern security measures. They used a... a paper document, an old authorization agreement with the highest priority."
A paper agreement?
What kind of ancient relic was that?
"The agreement states that in the event Kateson Corporation faces bankruptcy liquidation, the funds in that account can be requisitioned unconditionally to repay the company's debts."
Blood rushed to my head, but I forced myself to stay calm. Kateson Corporation. Of course it was Kateson Corporation again. "That agreement... has your personal signature, and it's been notarized, giving it the highest legal authority."
I stood up from the sofa, my movements unhurried, my breathing unnaturally steady. But memory clicked into place at that moment. I remembered. Of course I remembered.
Just after my eighteenth birthday, Mr. Kateson, my respectable yet hypocritical "adoptive father," pushed that document in front of me. He said it was to prevent me from being scammed by bad men in the future, an insurance policy for me. He said Kateson Corporation would always be my backing. He said this agreement would ensure that every penny of mine stayed firmly in "safe" hands.
How ridiculous I was then, how naive.
I was so desperate for even a bit of their approval. I didn't even carefully read through all those dense legal terms before signing my name.
Now I realized—it was a contract selling myself into bondage.
Back then, they still saw me as their biological daughter, and this was how they treated their own daughter.
They had always seen their daughter as a blood bag they could tap at any time, a tool to bail out their rotting business.
"How did they activate the agreement?" I gripped my phone so tightly my nails nearly dug into my flesh.
"They filed for bankruptcy protection with the court and activated this agreement at the same time. Because of your signature and the notarization, the bank's legal department had no choice but to execute it. By the time we received the risk control alert, the money... had already been transferred."
Two hundred million dollars.
I didn't even need to imagine it. The moment that money hit their account, their expressions must have been quite a sight. Greed, triumph, thinking they'd turned things around. They were probably already calculating how to use this money to fill their holes, keep themselves afloat, and continue their rotten, fake upper-class lifestyle.
Too bad for them. They were celebrating too soon.
"Investigate." I spoke, my voice steady, devoid of emotion.
"Miss?"
"I want the complete trail of that money."
"Every cent, every second."
"Which bank it went to, how many checkpoints it passed through, which hole it plugged, whose debt it paid, which credit card it went into, which restaurant's dinner it bought."
I paused, my tone growing even colder. "Also, immediately contact all our people at the IRS."
"I want Kateson Corporation's complete tax records for the past ten years."
"All projects, all accounts, don't miss a single one."
"I want to know exactly what kind of dirty secrets are buried under their shiny exterior."
I let out a soft, cold laugh. "They like money, don't they? Then I'll make them understand what price they'll pay for it."
Silence on the other end for a moment.
"Yes, Miss." Anna's voice became calm and professional again. "I'll handle it right away."
Just then, I received an email from Myrdal.
I was about to delete it directly, but the email's subject line made me pause.
"Re: A Bid for Astraea"
I opened the email.
The content was simple and blunt, totally Myrdal's style.
[Miss Astraea, I heard you took on a damn brooch design for Sterling.
Whatever he's paying you, I'll pay double.
I want you to design a necklace for my mother's fiftieth birthday.
You choose the theme. No budget limit.
Attached is my initial offer. One hundred million dollars, as an advance payment.
If you agree, the money will be in your account within an hour.
I know you never disappoint your clients.
Myrdal]
At the end of the email was a formal quote.
One hundred million.
He just threw it at me like that.
Looking at that number, then thinking about the two hundred million that had just been stolen from me, I suddenly found the whole thing absurdly funny.
Just when my past had stabbed me hard and I was bleeding, another past I'd been avoiding was offering me an expensive band-aid.
What should I do?
Accept or decline?
Accepting meant getting entangled with Myrdal again. He'd be like a fly, endlessly appearing before me under the guise of "collaboration."
But it was one hundred million.
Just enough to fill my current hole and give me more ammunition to completely crush the Katesons.
Not accept?
I laughed coldly. Why would I have a problem with money? I earn money with my skills—it's perfectly justified. As for Myrdal, he's just a paying client. I can treat him like air.
Just as I was hesitating, my phone rang.
The name flashing on the screen made my breathing stop for a second.
Royce Sterling.