Chapter 4 - The Midnight Audit
The phone call came at 2:15 AM.
The screen glowed fiercely in the dark cabin, flashing BRADLEY.
I let it ring three times before sliding my thumb across the glass and pressing it to my ear. I didn't say a word.
"Dad?" Bradley's voice sounded frantic, the smooth arrogance completely stripped away. In the background, I could hear the sharp clatter of ceramic breaking and raised voices. "Dad, where are you? Are you at that damn beach cabin?"
"I'm listening, Bradley," I said, my voice eerily calm.
"The lawyers... the international tax attorneys just called me," he stammered, breathing heavily. "The villa in Italy... it’s locked. There’s a freeze on the title. They’re saying there are back taxes and environmental remediation liens totaling three million euros attached to the property!"
I took a slow sip of water from the glass on the nightstand. "That's unfortunate, son. You always liked expensive things. You should check the fine print of your inheritance."
"I did! The contract says the beneficiary is responsible for all encumbrances!" Bradley shrieked, panic cracking his voice. "And... and the house! Our family home on Maple Street! I went to list it this evening, but the title office said the deed isn't in my name. It’s held in an irrevocable trust managed by... by..."
"By me," I supplied smoothly.
A heavy, terrified silence fell over the line.
"You?" Bradley whispered. "How? Mom signed it over to me!"
"She signed over the occupancy rights for thirty days, Bradley," I replied, standing up and walking to the window to watch the moonlight shimmer across the dark ocean. "The actual ownership rests with the Aegis Trust. And right now, as the primary trustee, I’ve decided to put our home up for historical preservation. You can't sell it. You can't touch it. And if you don't vacate the premises by noon tomorrow, I'll have you evicted for trespassing."
"You can't do that!" Bradley roared. "I'm your son! I'm your only blood!"
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"You made your choices clear when you packed my life into cardboard boxes and told me to retire with the gulls," I said softly. "Enjoy Italy, Bradley. Or whatever is left of it."
I hung up before he could scream another word.
