Chapter 6 - The Paperwork Division Strikes Back
By eight o'clock the next morning, my phone was ringing continuously.
I sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a quiet cup of black coffee while Leo and Mia ate breakfast. The caller ID showed "Eleanor," followed by three missed calls from "Chloe," and two texts from unknown numbers—no doubt Greg’s military buddies trying to intimidate me.
I didn't answer a single call. Instead, I opened my laptop and logged into my private bank accounts.
For twelve years, I had maintained a joint trust fund that managed several family properties, paid for Eleanor’s luxury vehicle leases, and provided low-interest personal loans to Chloe and Greg’s struggling business. Because I had the largest pension and substantial savings from my overseas hazard pay, I had been the sole financier of the entire extended family.
I clicked on the management portal. With a few swift, deliberate keystrokes, I executed three major actions:
Canceled the autopay for Eleanor’s 2025 Lexus lease ($1,200/month).
Initiated an immediate freeze on the revolving credit line issued to Greg’s contracting firm ($75,000 limit).
Sent an official legal notice demand for full repayment of the outstanding $50,000 personal loan owed by Chloe and Greg, due within thirty days per the signed agreement.
As I closed the laptop, Mark walked downstairs, looking exhausted, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. He had slept in the guest room.
"Who was on the phone?" Mark asked nervously, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Your mother and sister," I replied, sipping my coffee. "They're about to have a very bad morning."
Before Mark could respond, a heavy knock rattled the front door.
I stood up calmly, walked to the foyer, and opened the door. Standing on the porch was my sister, Chloe, her eyes red-rimmed, her face flushed with fury, holding a stack of legal papers in her hand. Behind her, sitting in the passenger seat of his pickup truck, was Greg, wearing a neck brace and a wrist splint—a pathetic, exaggerated attempt to play the victim.
"You sociopath!" Chloe shrieked, pushing her way into the hallway. "You froze Greg’s business account! His company card was declined at the supply store twenty minutes ago! How are we supposed to pay our crew?!"
"With your own money, Chloe," I said smoothly, leaning against the entryway wall. "Not mine."
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"You promised us that credit line!" she screamed. "We have a family! We have expenses!"
"And I have children who were assaulted by your husband," I countered, my eyes locking onto hers with deadly focus. "The free ride is over, Chloe. All of it."
