Chapter 4 - THE VIPER'S COUNTERATTACKThe eviction of Gertrude, Prudence, and Marcus made instant waves across the wealthy enclave of Bayside Heights. Within twenty-four hours, rumors swept through the country club. The mighty Vance matriarch and her spoiled children had been tossed onto the street like garbage by the long-lost war-horse son returned from the Middle East.
Determined not to go down without a fight, Gertrude pulled her ultimate trump card.
Two days after the eviction, while I was sitting in my newly renovated living room with Sarah and Jamieāwho was finally beginning to laugh againāmy phone rang. It was an unknown number.
I answered. "Speak."
"Ethan... you think you've won, don't you?" It was Gertrude's voice, but it didn't sound broken anymore. It sounded wicked, sharp, and dripping with venom.
"I know I've won," I said softly.
"You have the house, yes," Gertrude chuckled darkly. "But you forgot one tiny detail, my dear boy. Who do you think managed the construction permits for that grand mansion while you were away in Saudi Arabia?"
My eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the $500,000 private construction loan I took out using the estate as collateral through Blackwood Financial," Gertrude purred into the receiver. "I signed it as the property trustee before your title transfer was finalized. And guess what, Ethan? The loan is in default. The balloon payment of $650,000āincluding interestāis due in forty-eight hours. If it isn't paid in full, Blackwood Financial seizes the entire estate and puts it up for public auction!"
I held my breath. A $650,000 hidden debt?
"You see, Ethan," Gertrude cackled triumphantly. "You might have the title deed, but I have the debt! You spent all your savings building the house! You don't have six hundred and fifty thousand dollars liquid cash lying around, do you? Pay the loan, or watch your precious palace get bulldozed by loan sharks! And if you want me to sign the deed clearance... you bring Sarah to my new apartment, make her drop to her knees, and beg for my forgiveness!"
CLICK.
The line went dead.
Sarah, who had been watching my face, gasped. "Ethan? What happened? What did she do?"
"She took out a fraudulent lien on the house," I muttered, my blood boiling. "She put a six-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar death sentence on our home."
I immediately called Arthur. "Arthur, tell me she's lying. Tell me a trustee can't saddle a property with a private high-interest loan without the primary funder's consent!"
Arthur groaned on the other end of the line. "Ethan... I just checked the county clerk database. She's not lying. She executed a predatory 'Trustee Mortgage' four years ago. And Blackwood Financial isn't a normal bank. It's owned by Victor Blackwood."
My heart sank.
Victor Blackwood was the most infamous underworld financier in the state. He didn't care about family drama, he didn't care about moral rights, and he certainly didn't care about justice. He only cared about blood and money.
If Victor Blackwood wasn't paid $650,000 in forty-eight hours, he wouldn't just take the houseāhe would send enforcement teams to collect the difference in flesh.
Gertrude thought she had trapped me in a corner. She thought she had forced me to crawl back to her, beg for her help, and restore her lavish lifestyle.
She had no idea who I had met during my five years in the Middle East.
I picked up my secondary, encrypted satellite phone from my steel briefcase. I dialed a international number I swore I would never use unless my life was on the line.
The phone rang twice.
"Ah, Ethan," a deep, smooth voice answered with a heavy Middle Eastern accent. "The lion of the desert. I was wondering when you would call me from America."
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It was Sheikh Hamdan Al-Maktoumāthe billionaire oil tycoon whose life I had saved during a catastrophic refinery explosion in Jubail three years ago.
"Sheikh Hamdan," I said quietly. "I need a favor. A big one."
