Alan Payne, now the prisoner of his own moral compromises, took a slow, deep breath, the ink stain on his blotter a permanent reminder of his new reality. He pushed the trauma of his personal exposure aside and shifted fully into survival mode, focusing on the legal labyrinth.
"A facade is good, but it has to be a robust one," Alan stated, grabbing a fresh notepad. "It can't be something mundane like a franchise or a standard retail operation. The court could easily appoint a custodian to oversee that. We need a venture that is so niche, so high-stakes, and so technically specific that only the principal—you—can manage it. We need to present a situation where the judge's failure to release the funds is demonstrably reckless."
Jeremy watched him, the hint of a true smile finally widening on his lips. This was the game he had wanted to play. This was leverage.
"We need a venture that appears to rely on a closing window of opportunity—a single, massive acquisition that requires cash now to secure a five-year projection of profit," Jeremy instructed. "The competence must be rooted in timing and access, not just a technical degree."
Alan rubbed his temples, his mind racing through years of high-net-worth clients and complex corporate law. "It needs a unique hook. Something that justifies $360,000 as a 'starting capital requirement,' not a luxury purchase. And it needs to be an asset that a professional fiduciary would immediately dismiss as too illiquid or too risky."
He began listing ideas, crossing them out almost immediately: "Day trading firm? Too easy to delegate. Software startup? Too common, court could mandate a CEO. Real estate flipping? Too slow, not urgent enough."
Finally, Alan tapped the pen on the table, a sudden spark in his eyes. "Niche assets. Local, unique, distress sales. We will create a shell company—a legal entity only—dedicated to Private Regional Asset Liquidity and Arbitrage. We'll call it Boston Legacy Artifacts (BLA)."
Jeremy leaned back, assessing the brilliance of the lie. "Historical documents, regional art... assets that appreciate based on scarcity, and rely on cash to move fast. Perfect."
"Precisely. Here is the narrative we build for the court," Alan began, sketching a flowchart of fiction:
Boston Legacy Artifacts (BLA): The Fictional Venture
1. The Business Premise (Unique Competence)
"BLA's mission is to exploit a temporary market inefficiency in New England. We argue that certain niche historical, numismatic, and regional art assets are being sold privately by distressed or ill-informed local estates and collectors who need cash immediately. Your 'unique competence,' Jeremy, will be your claim to having unparalleled access and local knowledge—an exclusive network of contacts established through your father and deep research into regional collections—that allows BLA to identify and acquire these assets at a 30% below-market rate, before they ever hit the public auction houses or national firms."
Alan tapped the page. "The key here is the access. We are not just buying antiques; we are exploiting a fragile, short-term market access that only you, as a local, discreet party, can leverage. We will argue that a conservator, having to navigate state rules, public bidding, and official bank processes, would be visibly ineffective and would immediately destroy the competitive edge."
2. Financial Necessity (The Capital Injection)
"We structure the $360,000 as essential, non-negotiable capital required for a Foundational Acquisition Lot. This isn't profit; it's the cost of securing our future," Alan explained, detailing the breakdown. "We create mock-up appraisal documents (easily generated through a few discrete, non-traceable channels I know) showing a single, massive lot of specialized assets—say, a rare collection of 19th-century New England naval manifest logs and a unique selection of Massachusetts colonial currency.
Foundational Lot Acquisition ($305,000): This is the bulk of the money. We create fake 'Letter of Intent to Purchase' agreements showing a 7-day expiration window on this critical lot from a fictional private estate that requires immediate cash liquidity. Urgency is key. We argue that missing this single, foundational purchase will prevent BLA from having the inventory and credibility to make future sales, thus rendering the venture stillborn.
Initial Legal and Administrative Fees ($25,000): This covers the sham company setup, appraisal costs, and, conveniently, my actual fee.
Storage and Logistics ($30,000): This covers the fictional lease of a climate-controlled vault or storage unit and the cost of specialized, insured transportation for the fragile assets.
"By framing it this way," Alan concluded, "the judge doesn't see Jeremy buying a car; they see the final, delicate piece of a market-timing strategy. They see a young, shrewd entrepreneur with a $360,000 plan that will immediately generate income, but only if the money is released now to execute a transaction that a conservator would inevitably veto."
3. The Legal Maneuver (The Custodian Trap)
"My argument to the judge will be simple, Jeremy. I will claim that appointing a fiduciary would be tantamount to ordering the destruction of the venture. Any conservator, bound by fiduciary duty, would immediately freeze the funds due to the 'illiquid' or 'speculative' nature of the assets and the private, high-speed cash requirement. By the time the fiduciary approves the purchase, the acquisition window will have closed, the foundational assets will be gone, and the entire business model will be worthless. The court must, therefore, bypass the conservative, risk-averse default action to protect the minor's immediate financial future."
Jeremy allowed himself a satisfied, chilling nod. This was perfect. The lie was robust, complicated, and entirely reliant on the court's own bureaucratic sluggishness. It turned the system's caution against itself.
"The high school year begins in eight weeks, Alan," Jeremy reiterated, his eyes hardening again. "The money must be in my control by then. You will file the incorporation papers for BLA immediately. I will write the detailed acquisition proposal, the market analysis, and the financial projections. And you will ensure that the paper trail for this foundational lot—the appraisals, the seller's urgency—is solid enough to survive a surface-level judicial review."
He stood up, pulling a small, black burner phone from his pocket. "I will be in touch only on this line. You will not attempt to contact my personal cell or my residence. You are now working for me, Alan. Remember what you have to lose."
Alan Payne simply nodded, his face pale but his eyes now burning with a desperate, professional focus. He had just agreed to orchestrate a sophisticated legal fraud under duress, but at least, for now, his marriage and reputation were safe. He picked up his clean notepad and began outlining the motions, already deeply immersed in the world of specialized lies.
The game had officially begun. The house was the court, the stakes were $360,000, and the only rule was Alan's survival. Jeremy had secured his means, but the true purpose of the funds—the reason the Old Soul needed that much capital now—remained a dangerous secret, hidden behind the perfect facade of a shrewd artifact dealer.