Chapter 6 - The Account Due
Vance’s arrogant expression faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovered, flashing a slick, yellow-toothed smile.
"Ah, Mr. Drake! The big boss!" Vance chuckled, trying to sound casual as he adjusted his jacket. "Look, sir, if this is about the tenant in 4B, don't worry about it. She's a deadbeat, but I've been managing her. I get work out of her kid to cover part of the maintenance costs. I'm actually doing you a favor keeping the cash flow moving—"
Before he could finish his sentence, I stepped forward, grabbed him by the front of his jacket, and slammed him back against the brick facade of the building with every ounce of force in my body. The clipboard flew out of his hand, clattering onto the pavement.
"A favor?" I growled, my face inches from his. "You have a seven-year-old child sewing clothing until her fingers bleed in a dark room while her mother starves! You've been skimming rent, running illegal child labor out of my properties, and bribing my manager!"
"Hey! Let go of me!" Vance sputtered, his face turning red as he clawed at my wrists. "You can't prove nothing! That sick bitch took the work voluntarily! She owed money!"
"I don't need to prove it to you," I said, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. "I have already called the state prosecutor, the labor board, and the police. By tomorrow morning, every contract you have with my firm is terminated. Every asset you hold will be frozen during the investigation. And I will personally spend every dollar I own to ensure you rot in a federal prison for human trafficking and child exploitation."
Vance’s eyes widened in genuine, paralyzing terror. The tough, predatory middleman vanished, replaced by the pathetic coward he truly was.
"You're crazy!" he gasped. "It's just business! That's how this district works!"
"Not anymore," I said.
I released his jacket, letting him drop hard onto the dirty concrete. He scrambled backward like a rat, scrambling into his van and speeding away into the evening traffic.
May you like
I didn't bother chasing him. He couldn't run from the legal machinery I was about to unleash.
I pulled out my phone and dialed my head of legal affairs. "Clear my schedule for the next month," I commanded. "I want an immediate audit of every single residential property in our portfolio. Every manager who took a bribe is fired tonight. And set up a multi-million dollar charitable trust under the name of Sarah Miller. We are going to rebuild every low-income housing unit we own, starting tomorrow."
