Chapter 5 - The Sedona SecretWhile Michael was busy scrambling to salvage his ruined career, my legal team and I boarded a private flight heading straight for Sedona, Arizona.
Hattie had boasted endlessly about her "glorious family estate" in the red rocks, treating it like a sacred ancestral temple. But when my investigator, Marcus’s former partner, dug into the public records, the truth was far more scandalous than we could have imagined.
The Sedona house wasn't a grand estate. It was a rotting, mold-infested foreclosure property drowning in over three hundred thousand dollars of back taxes, illegal utility liens, and fraudulent bank loans—loans that Michael had secretly guaranteed using my corporate signature without my consent.
When our black SUV pulled up to the rusted iron gates of the Sedona property, Hattie—who had driven down ahead of us, weeping hysterically—was standing on the front porch, screaming at a local sheriff's deputy.
"You can't do this! Do you know who my son is? He’s an elite architect! You'll all be fired!"
The deputy, an older man with a weary expression, pointed at the foreclosure notice taped to the front door. "Ma'am, this property was seized by the county twenty-four hours ago due to massive unpaid tax liens. Furthermore, the primary creditor—Vance Holdings—has just purchased the entire debt portfolio. You have twenty minutes to pack your personal belongings before the locks are changed."
I stepped out of the SUV, my heels crunching softly on the gravel driveway. The Arizona sun beat down brilliantly, illuminating the peeling paint of the porch and the rusted-out shell of an old truck parked in the yard.
Hattie spun around, spotting me. Her face contorted into a mask of pure, venomous hatred.
"You!" she screeched, lunging off the porch. "You vicious, manipulative witch! You did this! You ruined our lives over a stupid dog chain! It was just a joke! A little fun!"
Two local officers instantly stepped forward, blocking her path before she could reach me.
"A joke?" I asked calmly, walking closer, stopping just out of arm's reach. "You put a chian around my seventy-year-old mother's neck and threw her food on the floor. You thought you could treat us like stray dogs in a house I paid for, while your pathetic son lived off my success."
"My son is a genius!" Hattie shrieked, her voice cracking into a manic sob. "You are nothing without him! Without our family name, you're just a peasant girl from a dirt-road town in Montana!"
I smiled, pulling out my phone and tapping the screen.
"You're right, Hattie. I am from Montana. And where I come from, we don't tolerate parasites." I turned the screen toward her, displaying a live financial ledger. "By the way, did Michael tell you? The bank didn't just foreclose on this house. Because Michael used my forged signature to secure your fraudulent loans, my legal team has added federal wire fraud and forgery charges to his file. He isn't just losing his job, Hattie. He's looking at five to ten years in a federal penitentiary."
Hattie stopped screaming. The color drained completely from her face, and her knees buckled. She grabbed onto one of the porch posts for support, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
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"No..." she whispered, the venom evaporating into sheer panic. "No... you're lying. Michael... Michael will save me..."
"Michael is currently sitting in a holding cell downtown," I replied evenly. "And you, Hattie, are officially homeless."
