Chapter 6 - The Checkmate
I didn't yell back. I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open exactly three inches, keeping the security chain engaged. The cold, wet air rushed into the foyer.
"You don't have anything, Grant," I said quietly.
He sneered, rain dripping from his chin. "Call my bluff. Let's see how your mom looks in an orange jumpsuit. I uploaded her forged signatures to a delayed server. If I go down for the construction money, it auto-sends to the FBI."
"I know," I said. "I found the delayed server at four o'clock today. I deleted the files."
He froze. "You're lying. It was encrypted."
"I built your company's network, Grant. I know every backdoor, every patch, every password your brother uses. But that's not why you're going to prison."
I held up my phone and pressed play.
Through the small speaker, Grant’s own voice echoed clearly: “I own your mother, Elise. If she ever steps out of line, I’ll hand her trust fraud over to the DA. She’s my insurance policy on you.”
Grant stared at the phone, his mouth slightly open.
"You forgot about the camera in the home office," I said. "You admitted to blackmailing her three weeks ago. My mother committed a financial crime, yes. The statute of limitations on it expired six months ago. She owes IRS penalties, which I paid this afternoon. But extortion? Blackmail? Witness intimidation? Those are fresh felonies, Grant. And you just confessed to them on a secure server currently sitting on the desk of the Fulton County District Attorney."
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The fight drained out of him instantly. His shoulders slumped, and he looked back toward his SUV, realizing he had nowhere left to run. He had built his entire empire on the assumption that I was too passive to look closely at the architecture.
Sirens began to wail in the distance, growing louder as the police responded to the silent alarm I had tripped the moment his car hit the gate.
