Chapter 2 - THE SNARE CLOSES
The Dinner Party BloodbathBy noon, Preston believed he had the upper hand. He sat at the dining room table with his mother, Victoria, drinking freshly brewed mimosas.
"She'll be back by tonight," Victoria sneered, spreading marmalade over her toast. "Where else is she going to go? She has no money, no connections, and her family is dirt poor. You handled it well, Preston. But we must file for temporary emergency custody tomorrow morning. We will claim she had a psychotic break and abandoned the baby."
Preston smirked, adjusting his silk tie. "Already drafted the statement, Mom. I've got three witnesses—our maid and the gardener—who will sign affidavits saying she was acting erratically."
Suddenly, the grand front doors swung open.
Preston laughed. "See? I told you. She couldn't even make it past lunch."
He walked out into the grand foyer, expecting to see a tearful Evelyn dragging her suitcase back inside. Instead, he was met by four process servers in dark suits, accompanied by two armed sheriff's deputies.
Behind them stood Marcus Vance.
"Preston Hawthorne?" the lead deputy asked, holding a stack of legal documents tied with yellow tape.
Preston scoffed. "What is the meaning of this? Do you know who my father is?"
"We don't care who your father is, sir," the deputy replied grimly. "You are hereby served with an Emergency Injunction and Order of Exclusive Possession for this premises."
Victoria rushed into the hallway, her face twisted in rage. "This is absurd! My family built this estate!"
Marcus Vance stepped forward, pulling a gold pen from his coat. "Actually, Mrs. Hawthorne, according to tax records filed under Delaware Entity #4092—which your son carelessly set up to evade state income tax—the sole legal owner of this residence is Evelyn Mercer Hawthorne. In fact, you are currently trespassing on her private property."
Preston’s face drained of color. "That’s a lie! She signed the quitclaim deed!"
"She signed a blank signature page that your lawyer tampered with," Marcus countered coldly. "Which constitutes felony forgery. As of 10:00 A.M. today, a federal judge signed a freeze order on all primary Hawthorne development accounts due to suspected asset concealment."
Preston sprinted to his cell phone and dialed his chief financial officer.
"Pick up, damn it!" he screamed into the receiver.
When the line connected, his CFO’s voice was trembling, sounding like a man standing on the edge of a cliff.
"Preston... don't go to the office," the CFO stuttered. "The IRS Criminal Investigation division just walked into the building with a grand jury subpoena. They have everything. The secret offshore trusts, the double-ledger accounting, the wire transfers... all of it."
"How?!" Preston roared, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. "Who gave them that?!"
In the driveway, the sound of a sleek, black sedan pulled up. The rear door opened, and Evelyn stepped out. She wasn't wearing her faded house apron or sweatpants. She was wearing a tailored charcoal-grey suit, dark sunglasses, and her hair tied back in a flawless, commanding knot.
May you like
She walked past the deputies and stood at the threshold of the mansion.
"You told me this morning that I had no job, no money, and no future," Evelyn said, her voice echoing through the grand marble foyer. "You were wrong, Preston. My job for the past eighteen months was collecting your sins. And business is booming."
