Antonia saw all her plans falling down around her ears. “I can’t believe this. They’re doing it again!” she said to no one in particular. She looked up at the ceiling, then closed her eyes when her stomach churned at the movement.
“Who’s doing what?” Mr. Pennyworth asked nervously.
Antonia looked around at the bank and its other occupants, wondering how their day could just continue on as if nothing momentous had just happened while her world, while her life was falling into the control of her brothers. The neutral walls and neutral cubicles, neutral carpets and chairs were all starting to spin around her. She had to get out of the bank.
Ignoring Mr. Pennyworth’s calls, she rushed outside, taking deep breaths. She couldn’t believe Thomas had done this to her. She looked around, wondering what she was going to do for money. Everything she had was held up in some ridiculous bank investigation according to Mr. Pennyworth. How was she going to get out of town and start her new life with absolutely no money?
Walking down the street, she crossed her arms over her stomach, aching everywhere as if she’d been beaten. She sat down on a bench and tried to think. There must be some way to figure this out. She couldn’t let them win. It was now a matter of pride. That was her money! She’d earned it by working hard and scrimping every day for the past four years. She hadn’t taken a penny from anyone and now they were taking all of it away from her.
Rejecting the idea immediately, she refused to give in to their control. She decided to liquidate her whole stock portfolio. None of her brothers knew about her investments. She stood up and started down the street. She was just about to open the door to the Porsche when her hand froze on the door handle. A sudden thought terrified her. None of them were supposed to know about her bank accounts. How had they found out about this one?
Hurrying back to the parking lot, she jumped into the Porsche and drove to the bank that housed the headquarters to her investment firm, Finworth Investments. She’d never spoken to anyone here because she’d always invested over the internet.
Speaking to the receptionist, she explained that she wanted to speak with someone about her portfolio, but she didn’t have a name. The receptionist asked her to take a seat and she’d call someone to talk to her.
Antonia sat in the lobby, yet another neutral room, this one using mauves instead of tans. But the effect was the same. Everything was a different shade or tone of mauve except for the gold lettering of the firm over the longest wall.
As soon as a woman came forward to greet her, Antonia knew something was wrong.
“I’m Mindy Carmichael, Ms. Mazzuchelli,” the brisk, professional woman said, her hand reaching out to shake Antonia’s as she approached. “Would you like to follow me to a place where we can discuss your portfolio?”
Antonia shook the woman’s hand tentatively and surveyed the woman. Ms. Carmichael was in her early thirties and very professional in her black, wool suit, white, silk shirt and pearls. Antonia followed her, swallowing down the rising sense of panic. There has to be a way to get out of this.
Ms. Carmichael’s office was a smaller version of the lobby, with the exception of a picture hanging behind her. But the colors used in the watercolor only accented the mauve décor of the office.
“Ms. Mazzuchelli, I received a request for a freeze on your account due to some discrepancies in your bank accounts. It seems that Mr. Carlo Attracelli has some questions regarding some of the investments as well. I’m afraid that we need to call the SEC regarding some trading practices on this account.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Attracelli says that there might be some insider trading involved. And since this is such a large portfolio, we have to follow guidelines in order to make sure there aren’t any violations or other problems with this account.”
Antonia nodded her head. They were winning. “And an SEC investigation will take how long?” she said, standing and moving towards the door.
“I’m not sure. It might take some time. But your account will be placed in an interest bearing…”
Antonia didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. She walked out of the office and slowly made her way to the lobby. She stood against the receptionist’s desk for a moment, afraid she might pass out from the shock. But then the room stopped spinning and she was able to walk to the elevator and out to the street.
Once she was back in the sunshine, she could think of only one more way to get money. She hated to do it, but it was a last resort. She didn’t think her grandparents would mind very much.
After they finished rolling over in their graves because Antonia was going to run away from her fiancé and her family, she corrected herself mentally.
Antonia drove to the bank that held all the family accounts. She was almost afraid to walk inside the white, marble lobby, but she forced her feet to move forward. She was recognized instantly by the bank manager, Mr. Wilson, and escorted to his office on the second floor.
“Mr. Wilson, I’m afraid of the answer, but I have to ask. Is there any money in my trust account?” Antonia asked, looking out the window. She didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes when he told her that the account has been cleared out.
“Of course, Ms. Attracelli. We’ve been trying to contact you for several weeks regarding the amount in the account. We are hoping to convince you to invest the money. Right now, it’s sitting in an account collecting interest, which is fine. But with the enormous sum you have available to you, it would be wiser to make the money work for you.”
“I want to withdraw some money,” she said, her hopes rising.
“Of course. How much would you like to withdraw?” he said, taking a piece of paper out of his drawer.
Antonia named a figure and Mr. Wilson blinked. “Why?” he asked.
“I need it for personal reasons. Could you put it all in traveler’s checks?” she asked, her spirits rising.
Mr. Wilson pressed some keys on his computer keyboard. “I’m afraid there’s a limit for withdrawals on this account. I’m sorry but I wasn’t aware of this stipulation.”
Antonia blinked back tears. “What’s the limit?” she asked, about to cry.
“Five hundred dollars,” Mr. Wilson replied, looking at Antonia sadly.
Antonia stood up and left his office without another word. She drove around town, not sure exactly how they had done it but she was now at their mercy. She hadn’t realized where she was going until she looked up and saw Hancock Enterprises in front of her. She quickly found a parking space on the street and walked inside. There were several security guards in the lobby so Antonia went directly to them.