Chapter 3 - Under the Scanner
By Friday afternoon, the storm had made landfall. The media was in a frenzy. Headlines splashed across television screens and newspapers, accusing the Harper Ford Foundation of being a front for international arms smuggling. Outside the Chestnut Hill estate, a horde of reporters and paparazzi gathered, their cameras flashing like strobe lights against the iron gates.
Inside, the family was in lockdown.
"Mommy, why are those people outside?" eight-year-old Harper asked, clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly as she sat on the living room sofa. The golden retriever puppy, Barnaby, whimpered at her feet, sensing the anxiety in the household.
Jasmine knelt in front of her daughter, offering a warm, reassuring smile that masked the terror screaming inside her. "They’re just reporters, sweetie. They have some silly questions about the foundation, but Daddy and I are going to take care of it. Why don't you go upstairs with Nanny Maria and play in the playroom? We’ll have a movie night later, okay?"
"Okay," Harper whispered, kissing Jasmine’s cheek before running upstairs, Barnaby trotting close behind her.
As soon as the child was out of sight, Jasmine slumped against the wall, exhaling a shaky breath. Jackson walked down the stairs, his phone pressed to his ear, his voice sharp and demanding.
"I don't care what the federal prosecutor says, Robert! Get the injunction! We have the audit trail; we can prove the donations were routed through shell companies designed to bypass our compliance checks!" Jackson slammed his phone shut, his face dark with stress.
He walked over to Jasmine, pulling her into his arms, resting his forehead against hers. "The FBI is executing a search warrant on our downtown office tomorrow. Victoria’s play is brilliant. She’s not trying to kill us physically yet. She’s trying to strip away our legitimacy, to isolate us from our allies, and to make me look like a liar to the public—and to you."
"She can never make you look like a liar to me, Jackson," Jasmine said, her voice fierce. "I know who you are. I know what is in your heart. But we cannot fight this like a street war. If you use violence against Victoria or her associates, it will only prove the FBI’s case. It will look like you’re silencing witnesses."
Jackson clenched his fists. "So what do we do? We sit back and let them dismantle our life? Let them take you away from me?" The sheer terror of losing her, of seeing her in a prison cell because of his past sins, was a knife turning in his gut.
"No," Jasmine said, her eyes shining with determination. "We play their game, but we play it better. Victoria’s strength is her legal shield. She thinks she’s protected by Vance Enterprises and her clean reputation. We need to find where she’s keeping her real ledgers. Every corrupt lawyer has a vault, Jackson. We find hers, and we hand it to the federal agents before they can indict us."
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Jackson looked at his wife, a slow, dangerous smile finally breaking through his grim expression. She was no longer just the woman he protected; she was his equal, his partner in every sense of the word.
"Marcus!" Jackson roared, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "Get the tactical team ready. We’re going to pay a late-night visit to Vance Enterprises’ primary secure data facility in Newark."
