Chapter 4 - Underestimating a Mother

When Daniel and the security team arrived at the Blackwell pen
thouse, Carter was in the middle of a screaming fit, throwing Emily's clothes out of the closet. He still had the arrogance of a man who believed his wealth made him immune to consequences.
"You think your mother can play these games with us?" Carter sneered, stepping into Emily's path as she tried to reach the door. "We own this city, Emily. Your mother is going to end up in a federal penitentiary for hacking our accounts!"
"Actually, Mr. Blackwell," Daniel’s calm, professional voice cut through the room as he stepped inside, accompanied by two large, imposing security guards in suits. "The warrants were issued by a federal judge. There was no hacking. Only a legally authorized forensic audit of your publicly filed tax records and bank statements. Now, please step aside."
Carter’s face flushed red, but as he looked at the size of the guards, he slowly stepped back, his hands clenched into fists.
"You're making a huge mistake," Carter hissed at Emily. "You're nothing without me. You'll be back on your knees begging for my forgiveness."
Emily didn't look at him. She wiped her tears, squared her shoulders, and walked out of the penthouse, leaving her wedding ring sitting on the marble kitchen island.
When she arrived at my office, I wrapped her in a tight embrace. She was shaking, but for the first time in months, the heavy, suffocating anxiety that had plagued her during her engagement was gone.
"I was so scared, Mom," she whispered into my shoulder. "I thought if I didn't marry him, our family would be ruined. They kept telling me we were poor, that we owed them everything."
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"They lied to you, Emily," I said, holding her face in my hands. "The Blackwells haven't had real money in ten years. They’ve been surviving on stolen employee pensions and loans they could never pay back. They wanted to marry you because they thought my firm would help clean up their books. They wanted a servant, but they also wanted a scapegoat."
I sat her down at my desk and opened the blue folder. "But they made one fatal mistake. They underestimated a mother who knows how to count."