Chapter 6 - Tearing Down the LiesOver the next two weeks, while Maya remained in the hospital’s recovery wing gaining her strength back, I executed a complete, systematic liquidation of every financial connection between my family and my relatives.
With the legal guidance of Arthur Sterling, I served formal eviction notices on the suburban Long Island home my mother lived in—a house that was legally deeded under my sole name. I put the property on the market at twenty percent below market value, ensuring a rapid cash sale that effectively stripped Eleanor of her living arrangements.
I repossessed the luxury sedan I had leased for Chloe, canceled her health insurance coverage under my corporate group policy, and filed civil lawsuits against Mark to recover twenty-four thousand dollars in unauthorized credit card charges.
On a rainy Tuesday afternoon, Arthur Sterling sat at the foot of Maya’s hospital bed, spreading out thick folders of court filings.
“David,” Arthur said, his tone sharp and precise. “The Kings County District Attorney’s office is offering zero plea bargains to your mother or sister. The security footage from your apartment is being used as textbook evidence for felony domestic torture and child endangerment.”
Maya looked up from her teacup, her voice quiet. “Are they... are they still in jail?”
“They were extradited from Miami to the Rikers Island Rose M. Singer Center three days ago,” Arthur reported grimly. “Their bail was set at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars each by the magistrate. Since David froze all corporate accounts, they haven't been able to post bail. They are sitting in general population cells.”
Maya took a deep breath, her hand resting over mine. “David... I don't want revenge. I just want our family to be safe.”
“This isn't revenge, Maya,” I said, kissing her knuckles gently. “This is justice. They starved you, they stole from our son, and they tried to break your spirit so they could live off my work. They belong behind bars.”
Suddenly, my phone rang. It was an official call from the Kings County Public Defender’s office.
I put the call on speakerphone.
“Mr. David Miller?” a tired female voice asked. “I am legal counsel assigned to represent your mother, Eleanor Miller. Mrs. Miller is requesting a brief visitation meeting with you before her formal arraignment hearing on Thursday.”
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I looked at Maya, who gave me a slight, reassuring nod.
“Tell her I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I stated calmly.
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