Chapter 6 - The Unraveling
“Listen to me, Mr. Sterling,” Javier cried out, dropping to one knee on the marble foyer, abandoning every shred of dignity. “I didn’t hit her! I swear to God, I never laid a hand on Sofia! It was my mother! It was all Carmen’s idea! She told me if I didn’t get the deed, the loan sharks would kill us!”
“Javier, shut your filthy mouth!” Carmen screamed, her voice cracking in hysterical fury.
Alexander didn't even look down at the kneeling man. He snapped his fingers once.
One of the security officers stepped forward, holding a tablet computer. Alexander turned the screen toward Carmen and Javier.
On the screen was an active livestream of a private hangar at Dallas Love Field. Two federal marshals and four IRS criminal investigators were currently placing yellow evidence tape across Carmen’s private jet—a Bombardier Challenger purchased using diverted funds from an elderly widow’s estate trust.
“As of six-thirty this morning, your offshore accounts in Belize and the Cayman Islands have been frozen under the Patriot Act,” Alexander said evenly. “Your Highland Park estate has been red-tagged for tax evasion and fraudulent conveyance. By four o'clock today, the bank will initiate emergency foreclosure.”
Carmen shook her head in frantic denial, clutching her pearl necklace until the string strained. “You can’t do this! I have friends on the bench! I know the attorney general!”
“Your friends received copies of your unredacted ledger two hours ago,” Alexander replied cold-bloodedly. “Nobody is answering your calls, Carmen. To the world, you are already radioactive waste.”
He turned his gaze down to Javier, who was weeping openly against the marble floor.
“And you, counselor,” Alexander continued, his voice dripping with disgust. “Your law firm no longer exists. The Texas State Bar has officially stripped your license under emergency summary suspension. But that is merely the civil side of your afternoon.”
Alexander took out a sleek digital recorder from his breast pocket and pressed play.
Javier’s own voice echoed through the high-rise penthouse, clear and undeniable:
*“Mom, don’t hit her too much in the face. People will notice tomorrow.”*
Javier collapsed entirely, burying his face in his hands, choking on his own bile.
“You stood outside that door,” Alexander said, his voice lowering into a deadly whisper. “You listened to your bride scream, and your only concern was the cosmetic visibility of her suffering. In Texas, acting as a lookout during the commission of an aggravated felony makes you a co-principal. You will serve every single year alongside your mother.”
May you like
Alexander nodded toward his security personnel. “Throw them out of the building. If either of them attempts to leave Dallas County, notify the marshals immediately.”
***
