Chapter 25 - The Unwelcome Visitor
I pulled the heavy wooden door open.
Standing on the covered porch, drenched from the mountain downpour despite an expensive Burberry trench coat, was a man I hadn't expected to lay eyes on for at least a decade.
Marcus Vance’s defense attorney—a slick, high-priced corporate fixer named Sterling Vance, no relation to Marcus, though cut from the exact same venomous cloth—stood on the threshold, flanked by two local process servers holding thick leather briefcases.
"Grant Whitlock," Sterling said smoothly, stepping past me into the foyer without an invitation, tracking rainwater across the antique hardwood floor. "You certainly made it difficult to serve you. You'd think a man hiding out in a bankrupt New Mexico vineyard would want a bit more civilized company."
I didn't move an inch. I blocked the hallway leading to the dining room, my voice dropping into a razor-thin register. "You have five seconds to turn around and walk back down this mountain before I throw you down the stone steps myself."
Sterling offered a cold, practiced smirk, shaking water from his umbrella. "I wouldn't be so hasty, Grant. I’m not here on Marcus’s behalf. Marcus took a plea deal last Tuesday in Phoenix—twenty years federal without parole. He sang like a canary about every offshore account your mother ever touched."
"Then why are you here?" Julian’s voice cut sharply from the hallway archway behind me. He stepped into the light, holding a heavy pruning shear in his hand, looking every bit the weathered desert mechanic ready for a fight.
Sterling’s eyes flicked to Julian, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his features before he recovered his composure. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick stack of legal documents, slamming them down onto the entry table.
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"I'm here because the Swiss banking authorities have frozen every remaining asset tied to the Whitlock Estate trust," Sterling stated coldly. "And according to a secret codicil filed in Zurich three days ago by Lorraine Whitlock herself from her Swiss exile... she has initiated a formal petition to declare this entire vineyard property as fraudulent corporate collateral used to hide embezzled funds."
The silence in the hallway became absolute, broken only by the steady drumming of rain against the windows.
