Chapter 9 - The Siege of the Dupont Maritime BankThe morning sun broke over New Orleans in a blinding flash of golden light, reflecting off the glass towers of the central financial district.
By 9:00 AM, federal marshals and Julian’s private security detail had surrounded the towering glass-and-steel headquarters of the Dupont Maritime Bank on Canal Street. News vans from every major network lined the curbs, their camera crews scrambling to capture footage of the spectacular downfall of one of Louisiana’s most powerful dynasties.
I stepped out of Julian’s armored Maybach wearing a tailored charcoal-gray wool coat Julian had had his private stylist rush over to the estate at dawn. As I walked up the marble steps of the bank beside Julian, the flashing lights of camera strobes illuminated our path like lightning.
Inside the executive boardroom on the forty-fifth floor, the remaining members of the bank’s board of directors sat in terrified silence around the massive glass conference table. Charles and Camilla Dupont had already been transferred to the federal detention center across the river, leaving behind only their ruined legacy and empty chairs.
Julian walked straight to the head of the table, placing the worn leather briefcase down with a sharp thud that echoed through the silent room.
“Gentlemen,” Julian’s baritone cut through the tension like a razor. “Effective immediately, the Cross Syndicate is executing its right of majority acquisition over all Dupont maritime assets, commercial real estate holdings, and regional banking accounts.”
The senior vice president of the bank, a frail man named Henderson, swallowed hard, raising a trembling hand. “Mr. Cross... under what legal authority? The board requires a formal shareholder vote—”
Julian slid the original ledger and the accountant’s sworn affidavits across the glass table.
“Your legal authority is right there,” Julian interrupted coldly. “You can either sign the transfer deeds voluntarily within the next five minutes, or you can join Charles and Camilla in federal custody before noon for corporate conspiracy and money laundering.”
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Henderson took one look at the documents, turned the color of chalk, and reached blindly for a gold fountain pen. Within three minutes, every single director had signed away their shares.
The empire of the Duponts had officially ceased to exist.
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