Chapter 3 - The Trap Is Set
At four o'clock, I returned to the house. The dining table was covered in glossy folders, bank statements, luxury receipts, and property titles. Margaret and Paige sat like queens reviewing their estate, beaming with arrogant satisfaction.
"We gathered everything, Ethan," Margaret announced proudly, pushing a stack of paper toward me. "As you can see, I managed your money very carefully. The house title is currently under my name and Paige’s name for tax protection purposes, but once your military funds clear, we can restructure it."
I sat down and slowly turned through the pages. Every entry was a monument to their cruelty.
Fifty-four thousand dollars transferred directly to Margaret’s personal investment portfolio. Twenty-eight thousand dollars paid for Paige’s cosmetic surgeries, designer apparel, and European vacation. Sixteen thousand dollars spent on the custom leather furniture and home renovations.
And under Gwen’s name? A single line item: Fifty dollars per month – basic groceries.
"Where is Gwen?" Paige asked, flipping through a fashion magazine without looking up. "She didn't finish scrubbing the back patio, and the laundry is piling up. Tell her to make us dinner before she locks herself in that room again."
"She’s rested," I said coldly, keeping my expression entirely neutral. "I sent her to run an errand."
I pulled out a set of legal documents prepared by Arthur Sterling. "Before the military release form clears the federal portal, you both need to sign this affidavit of asset management. It states under oath that every dollar spent from my overseas allotment was utilized with my full consent and for the benefit of my primary household."
Margaret took the pen without a moment’s hesitation. "Of course, son. It’s just standard bureaucracy, right?"
"Standard procedure," I echoed.
She signed with a flourish. Paige snatched the pen and signed her name right beneath her mother's, grinning at the thought of the white Range Rover waiting at the dealership.
They had just signed a sworn, notarized confession of financial fraud under federal jurisdiction.
May you like
I picked up the signed documents, tucked them safely into my jacket, and stood up. "I’m going to submit these to the legal desk. Enjoy your evening."
As I stepped out the front door, I dialed Arthur Sterling. "Execute the filings. Lock every single account, freeze the house title, and notify the district attorney."
