Chapter 5 - The Confrontation at the Estate
The Williams family estate was a sprawling, neoclassical mansion nestled in the exclusive hills of Lomas de Chapultepec. Surrounded by high stone walls, perfectly manicured gardens, and armed security guards, it had always been a symbol of absolute power. But today, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Victor walked through the grand double doors without knocking. The house was dead quiet. The servants, sensing the shift in power after the disastrous birthday party, had either locked themselves in their quarters or quietly resigned.
Maris Williams sat in the main drawing-room, surrounded by half-packed designer suitcases. She was clad in a silk robe, smoking a cigarette, her eyes bloodshot. When Victor entered, she didn't flinch. Instead, she sneered.
"You always were an ungrateful boy, Victor," she said, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. "I gave you everything. I groomed you to take over the real estate market. I removed the dead weight from your life so you could focus on becoming a king. And this is how you repay me? By humiliating me in front of high society?"
Victor stood in the center of the room, his hands in his pockets, looking at her with an apathy that shook her more than rage would have. "You didn't do it for me, Maris. You did it because you couldn't control Catherine. She wasn't one of your high-society puppets. She saw right through your snobbery, and you couldn't stand the fact that I loved her more than I feared you."
"Love is a liability in our world!" Maris snapped, slamming her hand on the glass coffee table. "Look at what that 'love' did to you! You were soft! After you married her, you wanted to spend weekends at a park instead of attending charity dinners with the governor! I saved your career!"
"You ruined my family," Victor corrected her, his voice dead calm. "And in doing so, you've ruined yourself. Did you really think you could steal nearly two million dollars from me and get away with it?"
Maris scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "Please. My lawyers will tie that up in civil courts for the next ten years. It's my word against a bitter chauffeur and a forged signature that cannot be definitively linked to me. I am a Williams, Victor. I built the foundation of this company before your father passed away. You cannot touch me."
"I don't need to touch you," Victor said. He stepped aside as the grand doors opened again.
This time, it wasn't Brian or Julian who walked in. It was four federal agents wearing dark jackets with "FISCALIA" printed on the back, led by a stern-faced woman holding a warrant.
"Maris Williams?" the lead investigator asked.
Maris stood up, her face draining of all color. "What is the meaning of this? Get out of my house!"
"This is no longer your house, ma'am," the investigator replied, presenting a stamped document. "Pursuant to a federal judge's order regarding investigations into money laundering, bank fraud, and identity theft, all assets under your name, including this property, have been frozen and seized as evidence. Furthermore, we have an arrest warrant issued for you and your legal accomplice, Arthur Vance."
"Victor!" Maris shrieked, looking at her son in absolute horror as an officer stepped forward and produced a pair of handcuffs. "You wouldn't dare! Tell them to stop! I am your mother!"
"A mother protects her children," Victor said, his voice cold as ice. "A mother doesn't let her granddaughter eat out of a trash can while she hoards millions in an offshore account. Take her away."
Maris fought back, screaming and cursing, her silk robe tearing slightly as the officers expertly secured her wrists behind her back. The elegant, untouchable matriarch of the Williams family was dragged out of her mansion, kicking and screaming, past the iron gates where paparazzi—tipped off by an anonymous source—were already waiting with flashing cameras.
Victor watched her go from the grand window. When the police cruisers sped away, their sirens fading into the distance, he turned to Julian, who was standing in the doorway.
"Is the paperwork ready?" Victor asked.
"Yes, Mr. Williams. The estate has been legally transferred to the Annie Williams Trust. Your mother’s personal funds have been frozen, and the court will likely order them paid out as restitution to Mrs. Catherine Williams for emotional distress and fraud," Julian replied.
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"Good," Victor said, taking a deep breath. "Sell the mansion. Every square inch of it. I don't want a single trace of my mother’s legacy left standing. Evaporate the asset and place the liquid cash into a charity fund for single mothers in Northside."
He walked out of the house, not feeling a shred of regret. The house of cards had collapsed, and from its ashes, he was going to build a real home.
