Chapter 4 - The Ultimatum
The second text message glared up from the screen of Emily’s phone like a threat written in blood.
You took my private corporate files from the server, Emily. That’s industrial espionage. Bring the laptop and the files back to the restaurant by 2:00 PM, or I’ll file criminal charges against your mother for aiding and abetting property theft. And trust me, the police in my district take my calls.
Emily stared at the screen, her chest heaving as panic threatened to tear her apart. “Mom... he’s going to ruin us. He knows people downtown. He’s friends with city commissioners, inspectors, police captains... if he says we stole company data, they’ll arrest us.”
“They won't arrest anyone,” I said, my voice hardening into the unyielding steel of a woman who had spent thirty-five years managing unruly classrooms and standing up to abusive school boards. “Michael is still on the line, Emily. Listen to me: Grant is panicking because he knows his little paper house of cards is about to collapse on his head.”
I picked up the phone. “You still there, Michael?”
“Every word, Diane,” Michael’s voice came back calm, steady, and sharp as a scalpel. “Tell Emily to put down the phone and listen to me very carefully. Grant is bluffing. He’s using intimidation tactics because the moment we hand that contract over to the D.C. Attorney General’s white-collar division, his little restaurant empire goes straight into federal receivership.”
“What do we do next?” I asked.
“Don't go back to the restaurant,” Michael instructed. “Do not respond to his texts. I’m filing an emergency injunction in D.C. Superior Court this morning to freeze the corporate asset transfer, invalidate the fraudulent debt assignment due to coercion and forgery, and secure a temporary restraining order against Grant and anyone associated with him.”
Michael paused, taking a breath. “I’m also looping in an investigator friend at the D.C. Metropolitan Police financial crimes unit. They’ve been sniffing around Grant’s business practices for six months because of suspicious cash flow patterns and unpaid supplier liens. Your timing, Diane, couldn't have been more perfect.”
“How long until the injunction is signed?” I asked.
“Give me four hours,” Michael said. “By two o'clock today, we won't be running from Grant. We’ll be walking into his restaurant with two federal marshals and a court bailiff.”
Emily looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, but for the first time in eight months, there was a tiny spark of light behind her eyes.
“Do you really think we can beat him, Mom?” she whispered.
May you like
I reached across the table, taking her cold hands in mine, and squeezed them with all the strength I had left in my fifty-nine-year-old body.
“We aren't just going to beat him, sweetie,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “We’re going to take back everything he stole from you.”
