Chapter 10 - The Broken Heir
|
That evening, Isaac sat in the corner of a dingy motel room near the highway, staring at a lukewarm cup of instant noodles sitting on a plastic table.
His three-thousand-dollar suit was ruined. His luxury sports car had been repossessed three hours ago by Sterling Logistics agents. His phone was blowing up with frantic messages from creditors, news reporters, and Process Servers.
He pulled up his bank app for the hundredth time. The total balance across all four of his personal checking accounts read: $0.00.
Suddenly, a loud, heavy knock rattled the thin wooden door of the motel room.
Isaac jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. “Who... who is it?”
“Process Server,” a deep voice answered from outside. “You’ve been served, Mr. Vance.”
Isaac crept to the door and unlocked it, peeking through the crack. Standing outside was Caleb Sterling, flanked by two towering private security operatives.
Isaac tried to slam the door shut, but Caleb casually extended his foot, stopping the door effortlessly.
“Hello, Isaac,” Caleb said with a faint, chilling smile.
Isaac backed away into the room, tripping over his own suitcase and falling onto the unmade bed. “What do you want? Haven't you people taken enough from us? We’re broke! We’re ruined! My father is in the hospital!”
Caleb stepped into the room, looking around the cheap motel with an expression of mild amusement.
“My sister lived in your mansion for four years, Isaac,” Caleb said, throwing a heavy manila folder onto the bed. “She endured your psychological abuse, your mother’s insults, and your arrogance. She never complained to us because she believed in loyalty.”
Isaac stared at the folder. “What is this?”
“That is the formal criminal indictment for felony assault, battery, and attempted murder,” Caleb explained smoothly. “The District Attorney’s office signed it twenty minutes ago. Your arraignment is set for nine AM tomorrow.”
Isaac’s eyes went wide with sheer terror. “Attempted murder? I... I just whipped her! It was a domestic dispute!”
Caleb leaned down, placing his hands on his knees so his face was inches from Isaac’s trembling nose.
“The leather crop you used had a steel core, Isaac,” Caleb whispered, his voice dropping into a dark, lethal hum. “Under state law, striking a person thirty times with a deadly weapon while bound constitutes attempted murder. You’re looking at twenty-five years minimum.”
May you like
Isaac burst into tears, grabbing Caleb’s trousers. “Please! Tell Flora I love her! I’ll give her everything! I’ll go on my knees in front of the news cameras!”
Caleb pulled his leg back with disgust. “She doesn't want your apologies, Isaac. She wants you to learn your place.”
