Chapter 18 - The Final Demand
Attorney Goldstein slammed his folder shut, his hands shaking slightly as he looked between my legal team and the desperate, unraveling trio across the table. He was a shark, but he wasn't stupid enough to go down with a sinking ship of blatantly criminal clients.
"This... this consultation is terminated," Goldstein stammered, grabbing his pen and pulling his chair back. "My firm is officially withdrawing representation effective immediately. I advise my former clients to seek independent criminal defense counsel."
"What?!" My mother shrieked, trying to stand up from her wheelchair before collapsing back down with a grimace of genuine pain. "Goldstein, you cowardly hack! We paid you a retainer!"
"That retainer was spent reading your fraudulent disclosures," Goldstein snapped, gathering his papers into a messy pile and practically fleeing the conference room, slamming the door behind him.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
The high-end conference room felt less like a mediation space and more like a courtroom awaiting a death sentence. Mason sat frozen, his mouth half-open, staring at the empty doorway where his last hope had just vanished. Alyssa was openly sobbing into her hands, her designer facade completely obliterated. My mother stared at me with pure, unadulterated venom—the mask of the loving matriarch burned away entirely, leaving only a bitter, defeated tyrant.
"Ethan," my mother rasped, her voice dropping into a harsh, gravelly whisper. "After everything I did for you. After feeding you, clothing you... you're going to put your own mother in prison?"
"I'm not putting you anywhere, Mom," I said calmly, standing up from my chair and buttoning my suit jacket. "Your choices put you here. The system is just catching up to math that you refused to balance."
I looked down at Mason and Alyssa.
"You wanted seventeen thousand dollars," I said quietly. "Well, you got it. You got federal investigations, frozen accounts, ruined credit, and total public exposure. I hope it was worth the nine minutes of fame under that stupid gold banner."
I turned to Sarah and David. "Let's go. We have a product launch to finalize."
"Right behind you, Ethan," Sarah smiled, gathering her folders.
As we walked toward the door, my mother let out a shrill, hysterical cry that echoed off the mahogany walls.
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"You're dead to us! Do you hear me?! You are no son of mine!"
I didn't stop. I didn't look back. I pushed open the heavy glass door of the conference room, walked down the corridor, and stepped into the private elevator. The doors closed, sealing away the toxic past forever.
