Chapter 12 - The Ink Dries
David Quinn hit a key on his laptop, and the screen scrolled down to reveal a second page flashing in bright, uncompromising red font.
ESTATE OF GRANT HOLLOWAY: VERIFIED LIABILITIES
Unpaid Federal & State Tax Liens: $1,420,000.00
Defaulted Private Mortgages & Personal Loans: $3,100,000.00
Defaulted Commercial Credit Lines: $850,000.00
Marrowline Capital Investor Liabilities (Ponzi Claims): $8,400,000.00
TOTAL ESTATE DEBT ASSUMED BY BENEFICIARIES: $13,770,000.00
Silence descended upon the room—a silence so dense, heavy, and suffocating that you could hear the air conditioning humming overhead.
Victor Baines slammed his hands over his face. "Oh, God..." he groaned. "Oh, God, no..."
Celia stared at the flashing screen, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide with unadulterated horror.
"Th-th-thirteen million?" she stammered, her voice pitching up into a hysterical squeak. "Thirteen million dollars in debt? No! No! This is fake! Grant was rich! He drove a Ferrari!"
"The Ferrari was leased," David noted coldly. "And you are now responsible for the four delinquent payments and the vehicle repossession fees."
"You tricksters!" Bernard screamed, his face turning an unhealthy shade of purple as he pointed a shaking finger at me. "You set us up! We aren't paying a single penny of this! We'll tear up the contract!"
Naomi picked up the signed, stamped agreement and held it up to the light.
"You cannot tear up a notarized contract, Bernard," Naomi said, her tone devoid of pity. "Your attorney warned you. We advised you to conduct an audit. You explicitly refused. You insisted on signing an unconditional Estate Assumption and Indemnification Agreement. You now legally own every single dollar of Grant's debt."
"And more importantly," Naomi added, pointing to clause 14B, "you have legally indemnified my client. You have formally agreed that Elise Rowan is entirely free from any financial claims brought by Grant's creditors, his private lenders, or his scam victims."
Celia turned her terrified eyes toward her attorney. "Victor! Do something! Fix this!"
Victor Baines slowly looked up from his hands, his face pale as chalk.
"I can't fix this, Celia," Baines whispered, his voice trembling. "You signed a broad indemnification against my explicit advice. You just took on thirteen million dollars in personal liability."
Celia grabbed her throat, gasping for air as if the room had suddenly run out of oxygen.
May you like
She thought she was walking out with an empire. Instead, she had just signed her own financial death warrant.
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