Chapter 3 - The Syndicate’s Shadow
The luxurious interior of the limousine suddenly felt very cold.
“The Petrov syndicate?” I repeated, staring sharply at David.
“Are you absolutely certain about this?”
David nodded gravely, pulling up a digital contract on his tablet.
“Michael used the forged deed of your house as collateral to fund a massive cryptocurrency scam,” David explained.
“He went to an underground broker because no legitimate bank would approve his business plan.”
“The broker is a known associate of Viktor Petrov.”
I leaned back against the leather seat, processing the sheer magnitude of Michael’s stupidity.
Viktor Petrov was not a man who sent polite collection letters when a debt was unpaid.
He was a man who sent armed enforcers to break bones and burn properties to the ground.
“When is Michael’s first payment due?” I asked.
“Tomorrow morning at precisely eight o'clock,” David replied.
“And his cryptocurrency accounts completely collapsed yesterday afternoon.”
“Michael is currently completely broke, but he thinks he can sell your house to cover the debt.”
I smiled, realizing my revenge was going to be far more poetic than I had originally planned.
“Take me to the penthouse in the financial district,” I ordered.
The limousine navigated smoothly through the dark city streets, eventually pulling up to a towering glass skyscraper.
I owned the entire top floor of the building, completely debt-free and hidden behind a corporate LLC.
David and I rode the private elevator up to my massive, heavily secured sanctuary.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the sparkling city skyline.
I walked over to my desk and opened my secure laptop.
“Pull up the hidden security cameras from the suburban house,” I instructed David.
I had secretly installed micro-cameras in the living room and dining room months ago when I first suspected Sarah was stealing from my wallet.
The video feed flickered onto the large monitor on my desk.
Michael and Sarah were currently sitting on my expensive sofa, drinking my best bottle of imported champagne.
They were laughing and celebrating their supposed victory over a helpless old man.
“They look so happy,” David observed quietly.
“Let them enjoy the night,” I replied, taking another sip of bourbon.
“Tomorrow, their entire world is going to burn to ash.”
I spent the next few hours transferring small, untraceable amounts of money to ensure my ten million dollars remained completely invisible.
I also placed strict legal locks on my six other properties, making them impossible for anyone to seize or sell.
Just as the sun began to rise over the city, an urgent alert flashed across my laptop screen.
The motion sensors at my old suburban house had just been triggered.
I clicked on the front porch camera feed.
Three massive black SUVs had just pulled aggressively onto the manicured lawn.
Eight heavily armed men wearing dark suits stepped out of the vehicles and approached the front door.
One of the men did not bother knocking.
He simply raised a heavy steel battering ram and smashed the front door completely off its hinges.
The men swarmed into the living room, grabbing Michael and throwing him violently against the wall.
Sarah screamed in absolute terror as a gun was pointed directly at her head.
The leader of the armed men grabbed Michael by the throat.
“Where is our five million dollars, Michael?” the enforcer growled loudly.
Michael was crying hysterically, begging for his life.
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“I don't have it, but my father-in-law does!” Michael screamed in sheer panic.
“He is a millionaire, and I know exactly which hotel he always stays at!”
