Part 15: The Jailhouse Realization
I walked into the visitor’s wing of the metropolitan correction center at 4:00 p.m. that afternoon.
Richard sat behind the reinforced glass partition, his orange jumpsuit wrinkled, his face marked by deep lines of exhaustion.
He clutched the internal telephone receiver, his hand shaking violently as he looked at my clean suit.
"You think you've won everything because you locked down the warehouse, Harrison?" he whispered into the phone.
"My mother still controls the original family nameplate registry. She will tie you up in court for ten years."
"The nameplate registry was officially expunged by the state commerce department two hours ago, Richard," I replied.
I didn't raise my voice; my tone remained flat, professional, and entirely free of any emotional resonance.
"The federal marshals have just cleared her remaining personal belongings from the Long Island property layout," I added.
"Every single patent, vehicle, and real estate asset has been liquidated to satisfy the outstanding corporate debts."
He stared at me through the glass, his mouth opening slightly as the full reality of his position hit.
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"You left Khloe alone at the hospital because your vanity made you believe you were unassailable," I said.
"But the person who tracks the data is the one who knows how to permanently balance the ledger."
