Chapter 7 - Brittany’s Retribution
While Linda was unraveling at my apartment door, Brittany Collins was executing a ruthless public relations purge across the city of Nashville.
The Collins family had not built an empire by being sentimental. By Wednesday afternoon, Brittany’s high-society wedding had been scrubbed from every digital platform. Her publicist issued a formal statement to the local press declaring that the marriage had never been legally consummated, that Brittany was a victim of an elaborate financial con artist, and that all ties with Jake Mitchell were permanently severed.
To ensure her own social standing remained intact, Brittany didn't stop there. She handed over every text message, email, and bank statement Jake had ever sent her directly to the district attorney’s economic crimes division.
David Vance called me into his office on Thursday morning to review the latest developments. He had a copy of the prosecutor's preliminary evidence log spread across his desk.
“Brittany’s father hired private forensic accountants the very night of the wedding,” David explained with a dry chuckle. “It turns out Jake had convinced Brittany that he was investing five hundred thousand dollars of his own capital into her father’s luxury condominium project. In reality, he had been using funds drawn directly from Arthur’s estate account—funds Linda had illegally transferred to him under the guise of ‘administrative fees.’”
“So he lied to her about everything,” I said, shaking my head.
“From beginning to end,” David confirmed. “He bought that diamond engagement ring using money taken from Arthur’s liquidated stock portfolio. When Richard Collins discovered the paper trail, he demanded Jake return the ring immediately or face an additional civil suit for fraudulent conversion.”
“What did Jake do?”
“He tried to pawn it to hire a criminal defense lawyer,” David said, his eyes glittering with cold amusement. “Only to discover that the diamond was an imitation cubic zirconia. Jake had pocketed the eighty thousand dollars Linda gave him to buy the real stone, gambled it away in Tunica two months ago, and bought a five-hundred-dollar replica to deceive Brittany.”
The absurdity of it was breathtaking. Jake’s arrogance had been hollow from the very beginning, a house of cards built on greed, vanity, and cheap deceit.
“When Brittany found out the ring was fake,” David continued, “she drove over to the Belle Meade house in broad daylight, accompanied by two moving vans and her father’s private security. She cleared out every piece of designer furniture, every painting, and every fixture Jake had bought with the stolen money. She even threw his clothes onto the front lawn and ran over his golf clubs with her SUV.”
Neighbors had recorded the entire spectacle on their smartphones. Within hours, footage of Brittany screaming obscenities while tossing Jake’s bespoke suits into the mud had gone viral across local social media networks.
The very high-society circle that Jake and Linda had sacrificed their souls to impress was now laughing at them with cruel, uninhibited delight. The Mitchell name, which Linda had claimed she was protecting, was now synonymous with petty fraud and public humiliation.
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I felt no satisfaction in their public destruction. I only felt an overwhelming sense of relief that Mason and I were finally beyond the reach of their toxic orbit.
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