Chapter 4 - THE HOUSE OF CARDS
The room seemed to lose all air.
Richard froze, his glass of whiskey trembling in his hand. “Marcus? What are you talking about? Arthur has nothing to do with my properties!”
Marcus Vance pulled out three stamped legal documents and laid them precisely on the glass coffee table in the center of the living room.
“Until two hours ago, that was true,” Marcus explained in a smooth, lethal tone. “However, forty percent of the commercial debt notes on the Vance Industrial Complex were held under Reed Investments LLC—owned solely by Madeline Reed.”
Richard spun around to look at me, his eyes wide with absolute horror. “Madeline... what did you do?”
“I transferred those notes to Arthur ten minutes ago,” I said, resting my hands in my pockets. “You defaulted on your last two quarterly mortgage payments, Richard. You told Bradley you were 'restructuring.' In reality, you were using my personal business loans to cover your interest. Now, Arthur owns the majority stake in your debt. And as of 8:00 PM tonight, he has declared the loan in default.”
“You toxic little snake!” Barbara shrieked, dropping her wine glass. It shattered across the hardwood floor, dark red liquid splashing over her designer shoes. “We accepted you into this family! We gave you our name!”
“You didn't give me anything, Barbara,” I said, looking her up and down. “You took my money, ate my food, stayed in homes I paid for, and treated me like a servant. And tonight, you stood by and clapped while your son pushed me into a frozen pool.”
“Maddie, please!” Bradley rushed over, grabbing my arm. “Maddie, stop! Look at me! We can talk about this! I was drunk, okay? It was just a stupid joke! You know how my family is!”
I looked down at his hand on my forearm.
“Take your hand off me, Bradley,” I said softly.
He didn't move. The security officer stepped forward and forcefully grabbed Bradley’s wrist, twisting it back and forcing him to release me. Bradley stumbled back, wincing in pain.
“Furthermore,” Marcus continued smoothly, pulling another set of documents from his folder. “Regarding the corporate fleet vehicles parked outside...”
Outside, the heavy mechanical whine of hydraulics began to echo across the driveway.
Jake and Mason—the two cousins who had dragged me to the pool—ran inside from the patio, their faces pale.
“Uncle Richard! Bradley!” Mason yelled frantically. “They’re loading the cars! They’re putting the BMW and the Ford Raptor on the back of tow trucks!”
Bradley sprinted to the front window. “Hey! Hey! Stop that! That’s my truck!”
“Correction, Bradley,” I said, walking slowly toward the front door. “That truck is registered under Reed Logistics LLC. You haven't made a single vehicle payment in three years. I let you drive it because you were my husband. But since we are no longer married, the company is repossessing its assets.”
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“Maddie! How am I supposed to drive home? How are we supposed to get back to the city?” Bradley screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.
“That’s not my concern,” I said. “I suggest you ask your mother. She seems to have all the answers.”
