Chapter 5 - The Fall of Khloe
By eight o'clock that evening, the news of Blackwood Incorporated's collapse was trending worldwide.
In her luxury high-rise apartment in Soho—a three-million-dollar penthouse purchased using the "consulting fees" Caleb had funneled to her—Khloe Reed was frantically throwing designer handbags and jewelry into leather suitcases.
Federal officers had already frozen her domestic bank accounts two hours ago. Her father had called from Chicago, screaming that his own stock in Blackwood Incorporated had plummeted sixty percent in four hours and ordering her never to return home.
"Panicking doesn't look good on you, Khloe," a calm, clear voice said from the doorway.
Khloe spun around, dropping a pair of diamond heels onto the hardwood floor.
Standing in her foyer was a tall, elegant woman leaning lightly on a silver-topped wooden cane, flanked by two private security officers and Jean-Luc Vance.
I wore a tailored cream silk suit—the exact shade of the Max Mara coat that had been cut off my body in the emergency room four weeks ago. My hair was styled into sharp, modern waves, my skin radiant, my eyes completely clear.
Khloe gasped, staggering back against her marble kitchen island. "Lucia? How... how did you get in here?"
"I own the building, Khloe," I said smoothly, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. My silver cane made a soft, rhythmic click against the floor. "Your lease, much like Caleb’s corporate lease, was held under a trust managed by my late mother's estate."
"You're crazy!" Khloe shrieked, clutching her gold iPhone against her chest. "Caleb bought me this apartment! It’s mine!"
"Caleb bought this apartment with stolen corporate funds, Miss Reed," Jean-Luc stepped forward, pulling a thick blue legal folder from his briefcase. "Two hours ago, the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York issued an emergency asset seizure warrant for all real estate, luxury goods, and vehicles purchased through K.R. Media Enterprises."
Two federal marshals stepped around Jean-Luc, holding official badges and badge credentials.
"Khloe Reed," the lead marshal said sternly. "You are ordered to vacate these premises immediately. All personal items purchased using funds under legal dispute are subject to immediate federal impoundment."
"No!" Khloe screamed, tears smearing her heavy makeup as she grabbed at her Birkin bags. "You can't do this to me! I have a heart condition! I’m fragile! Caleb! Call Caleb!"
"Caleb cannot help you, Khloe," I said, standing three feet away from her, looking down at her with absolute, pristine indifference. "Caleb is currently at the Federal Building on Plaza Street, surrendering his passport to avoid pre-trial detention."
Khloe dropped to her knees on the marble floor, sobbing hysterically as the marshals began tagging her designer clothes with yellow evidence markers.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Khloe wept, looking up at me with raw, ugly hatred. "I never did anything to you! Caleb loved me first! He always loved me first!"
I looked down at her, my expression completely serene.
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"He didn't love you, Khloe," I said softly. "He used you as an excuse never to grow up. And you used him as an ATM. You were never my rival. You were simply his weakness."
I turned my back on her screams, walking out into the private elevator hallway where the air was clean and cold.
