Chapter 5 - THE CONFESSION
The living room had transformed into a chaotic crime scene within minutes. Three additional patrol cruisers had screeched onto the lawn, boxing in the white van and Julian’s car. Julian and the two enforcers were pushed down onto the marble floor, their wrists bound in heavy zip-ties, while Khloe sat on the bottom step of the staircase, hyperventilating into her hands.
"He told us it was an uncontested reclamation!" the bald enforcer, whose name turned out to be Carl Briggs, shouted from the floor. "We were hired by Apex Crescent to repossess assets! We didn't break those locks; Mercer did!"
"Shut up, Carl!" Julian hissed, his cheek pressed flat against the polished floorboards. "Don't say another word without my lawyer present!"
Deputy Miller ignored him, kneeling down beside the safe and noting the crowbar marks on the front doorframe. He turned to me. "Are you injured, Ms. Chen?"
"I'm fine," I said, taking a steadying breath as I tucked my phone away. "I have the entire encounter recorded on video. The forced entry, the theft of personal property, and the verbal threats."
"Good. That makes this simple," Miller replied. He stood up and looked down at Julian with pure disgust. "Julian Mercer, you are under arrest for felony burglary of a habitation, violation of a criminal trespass warning, and grand larceny. You have the right to remain silent..."
"Khloe! Call Victor!" Julian screamed as the deputies hauled him to his feet. "Call Vance! He'll get the judge on the phone! Call him!"
Khloe couldn't move. She stared at her husband in absolute shock as he was dragged out the front doors in handcuffs, his expensive blazer covered in dust and scuffs. The reality of their desperate schemes was finally collapsing around them.
Once the enforcers were locked in the back of separate patrol cars, Deputy Miller approached Khloe. "Ma'am, you're not under arrest at this exact moment because the property owner hasn't pressed direct charges against you yet. But if you don't leave this property immediately, you'll be riding in the fourth cruiser."
Khloe looked up at me, tears streaming down her carefully applied makeup, leaving dark trails across her cheeks. "Nat... please. You can't let them take Julian to jail. He has a heart condition. His reputation will be ruined! If his investors see his mugshot, his company will be wiped out completely!"
"His company was already wiped out, Khloe," I said, looking down at her without an ounce of warmth. "He stole three hundred and thirty thousand dollars against my home to float a sinking ship. And you watched him treat our mother like a dog while he did it."
"I didn't know about the loan!" she cried, grabbing at the hem of my jacket. "I swear to God, Natalie! I thought Julian was using his own trust fund! He told me the house was transferred legally! He told me you agreed to it over an email!"
I looked at her, searching her face for any remnant of the sister I had grown up with. "You didn't know about the loan? But you knew our mother was scrubbing the patio on her knees yesterday afternoon, didn't you?"
Khloe looked down, unable to meet my eyes.
"You knew she was eating leftover soup in the garage while you served Julian’s friends prime rib in the dining room," I continued, each word falling like lead. "You knew he took her bank cards."
"He told me we needed to keep up appearances," she whispered, her voice breaking. "He said if people thought we were poor, nobody would invest in his cloud platform. He promised me we would buy our own mansion in Westlake by the summer... He said Mom was happy to help us."
"Mom was terrified of you," I said coldly. "Get your purse. Walk down that street. If you ever come within five hundred feet of Mom or this house again, I will ensure every felony charge Harrison Vance can dream up lands on your head."
Khloe stumbled to her feet, leaving the bags of stolen silverware behind, and staggered down the driveway alone, her high heels clicking irregularly against the asphalt.
An hour later, Harrison arrived at the house. He surveyed the damage to the front entry, his mouth pressed into a thin, grim line.
"The good news," Harrison remarked, inspecting the locks, "is that Julian’s arrest gives us immense leverage in the district court. Judge Alvarez has agreed to review our petition for an emergency injunction at three o'clock this afternoon."
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"And the bad news?" I asked, sensing the reservation in his tone.
"The bad news is Victor Vance just posted Julian’s preliminary bond through a private bondsman," Harrison said, looking at me. "And Victor’s firm has filed an expedited foreclosure affidavit with the county clerk. They claim Julian's arrest is irrelevant because the loan collateral is legally tied to the deed, not the individual. In seventy-two hours, Victor Vance intends to put this house on the auction block right on the courthouse steps."
