Chapter 4 - The Counter-Attack
Cynthia didn't go down without a fight.
Two days later, I was sitting in my father’s study at the estate—which I had retaken by force with a team of locksmiths—when two police cruisers pulled up the driveway.
Cynthia marched up the front steps, flanked by officers and a sleazy-looking attorney in a cheap suit.
"Officers, that's her!" Cynthia pointed a manicured finger at me as I opened the front door. "She is a violent, unhinged veteran suffering from severe PTSD! She broke my son's arm and is illegally squatting in my home!"
The lead officer looked at me apologetically. "Ma'am, we have a restraining order here signed by a judge, and a deed showing this property belongs to Cynthia Vance. You need to vacate the premises."
I smiled politely. "Officer, before you arrest me, you might want to call the county clerk. That deed was invalidated at 9:00 a.m. this morning."
Cynthia’s lawyer scoffed. "That's a lie."
I pulled a certified folder from the entryway table and handed it to the officer. "This is a federal injunction freezing all assets belonging to Cynthia Vance and Trevor Hayes, pending a grand jury investigation for wire fraud and embezzlement. Furthermore, here is an emergency protective order granted by the state, barring Cynthia and Trevor from coming within 500 feet of my grandfather or this estate."
Cynthia’s face turned the color of ash. "What... what did you do?"
"I checked your bank accounts, Cynthia," I said coldly. "Your credit cards are declining. The shell companies are locked. You have nothing."
May you like
The officer reviewed the paperwork, handed it back to me, and turned to Cynthia. "Ma'am, this paperwork is legitimate. You need to step off the property, or I will have to arrest you for violating a protective order."
Cynthia screamed, a guttural, ugly sound, cursing my name as her lawyer physically dragged her toward his car.
