Chapter 3 - THE STEREO WARFAREI didn't reach for the pen. Instead, I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out my smartphone, and tapped a single icon connected to the house’s enterprise-grade Sonos sound system.
Parker had installed it the previous Christmas—a state-of-the-art smart home network that linked every room, the patio, and the outdoor perimeter speakers to a master app on our phones.
"Parker," I said softly, stepping down from the porch. "You always said you wanted the best sound quality for this home. Let’s test the bass."
I hit PLAY.
Instantly, the crisp, chilling audio of Parker’s voice echoed across the driveway, bouncing off the brick walls and rolling over the manicured lawn:
"After the summer. Once the house is transferred into both our names, Mom can move in permanently."
Parker froze in his tracks. The color drained from his face so fast he looked like a ghost caught in daylight.
Then Ellie’s voice rang out from the outdoor speakers, crystal clear and booming:
"And then you get the house, the lake property, and full access to her accounts."
Alana shrieked. "Turn that off! Turn that infernal machine off!"
But I didn't turn it off. I turned the volume up.
The entire neighborhood could now hear Parker’s cold, calculated response:
"Make sure the boy keeps acting out. Clarissa has to believe sending him away was her own decision."
Attorney Richard Vance stopped walking. He slowly lowered the folder of emergency custody papers, staring at Parker with a look of pure corporate disgust. A high-priced lawyer doesn't mind doing shady work, but a high-priced lawyer hates losing because his client was stupid enough to leave an audit trail of a literal felony conspiracy.
"Parker," Richard hissed, his professional facade cracking instantly. "What in God's green earth is this? You told me she was mentally unstable and abandoning the property voluntarily! You didn't tell me there was an active, premeditated asset-stripping conspiracy caught on tape!"
"It's... it's out of context! It's deepfake audio!" Parker stammered, lunging forward like a cornered animal to snatch my phone.
"Don't you dare touch me," I snapped, stepping back and holding the phone high. "You think you're the only one who knows how to prepare for a hostile takeover, Parker? You thought you married a dumb girl who bought a house with her inheritance and forgot how to protect it?"
Ellie rushed toward the speakers on the wall by the patio, trying to rip them off their mountings with her bare hands, screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. Alana dropped to her knees, clutching her chest for real this time, wailing like a siren.
Parker stared at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and unadulterated hatred. The mask was completely gone. The loving husband was dead, leaving only a desperate, broke con man standing in a tailored suit.
"You think this wins you anything?" Parker snarled, his voice dropping into a venomous hiss as he stepped toward me. "That tablet, those recordings—they’re illegal wiretaps! You can't use them in court without a warrant! You're still going to lose this house, Clarissa, and I'm going to take everything else you own just to teach you what happens when you cross my family!"
Before Parker could take another step, the heavy iron gates at the end of our long driveway began to open.
May you like
Not for an ordinary car.
For three black-and-white cruisers with their emergency lights flashing a blinding red and blue.
