Chapter 5 - THE GATHERING STORM
The situation exploded sooner than we had planned. I was at Ernest’s house on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, organizing the immense pile of evidence we had gathered to take to a ruthless divorce attorney Ernest had hired for me. We were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking black tea, when the heavy brass knocker on the front door pounded with a violent, rhythmic urgency.
Ernest raised an eyebrow. "I am not expecting anyone."
I walked to the foyer and peered through the sidelight window. My blood ran completely cold. It was Richard. He was standing on the porch, soaking wet, his face twisted in a mask of absolute rage.
"He's here," I whispered, panic rising in my throat. "Richard is here."
"Let him in," Ernest said from the hallway, his voice ringing with absolute authority. He leaned heavily on his cane, standing tall, his jaw set like granite.
I unlocked the heavy oak door. Richard shoved it open, pushing past me into the foyer, bringing the smell of damp wool and fury into the house.
"You lying bitch!" Richard screamed, pointing a trembling finger at my face. "You thought you were so smart? You thought you could hack into my work emails without my IT department flagging the IP address?"
I stepped back, my heart hammering against my ribs, but before I could speak, Ernest stepped between us.
"You will lower your voice in my home, Mr. Davis, or I will have you removed by the police," Ernest stated, his tone dangerously quiet.
Richard laughed—a harsh, manic sound. "You're the old man? You're the artifact standing in the way of a thirty-million-dollar land deal? You have no idea who you're messing with. And you," he turned back to me, his eyes wild. "You're done. I'm taking the house. I'm taking the accounts. I have already filed the paperwork. You will end up with nothing!"
"Actually," Ernest said calmly, tapping his cane on the hardwood floor. "She has already filed. Three days ago. In a different jurisdiction. And she filed with an emergency injunction freezing all of your domestic and international assets, including the little nest egg in the Cayman Islands under Ms. Jenkins' name."
May you like
Richard’s face drained of color. He looked like he had been struck by lightning. "What?"
"I know Vanguard Horizon," Ernest continued, stepping closer to Richard, the eighty-year-old man radiating an intimidating, overwhelming presence. "I mentored the CEO. When I called him this morning and showed him the emails proving you were embezzling from the initial buyout funds to pay off personal gambling debts, he was... displeased. You are fired, Richard. You are broke. And you are trespassing."
