Chapter 3 - Champagne and Handcuffs
The Marina del Rey country club was bathed in warm golden light from string lanterns hung across the docks.
Through the live camera feed on my tablet, I watched my family. My mother, Eleanor, wore a emerald-green silk dress, holding a crystal glass of Dom Pérignon, laughing with local country club members. My father, Arthur, stood near the bow of the pristine, forty-five-foot yacht, wearing a white blazer, boasting into a microphone about how hard work and family values had allowed him to give his daughter "the world."
And Chloe stood at the helm, wearing a diamond necklace, posing for photos with her influencer friends.
"Look at them," Leo whispered from the hospital bed beside me, his voice trembling as he watched the screen. "They didn't even ask if you made it out of San Diego. They didn't call once."
"They don't care about us, Leo," I said softly, holding his hand. "They only care about the show."
On the screen, three black sedans pulled directly onto the pedestrian pier, blocking the exit ramp.
Four uniformed deputies from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department, accompanied by two court-appointed receiver agents in business suits, stepped out onto the wooden dock.
The music on the yacht sputtered and died as an officer walked up the gangway.
My father’s laughter cut short. He stepped forward, his face flushing red, waving his hands angrily at the deputies. "What is the meaning of this? This is a private event! Get off my vessel!"
The lead deputy didn't flinch. He pulled a rolled paper from his tactical vest and handed it to my father. "Arthur Sterling? I am serving you with a civil seizure order and a asset restraint warrant issued by the Los Angeles Superior Court. This vessel, The Chloe Queen, has been impounded as property bought with stolen trust funds."
A loud, collective gasp went through the crowd of guests.
"What?!" Chloe screamed, shoving her way down the gangway, her designer heels clicking loudly on the deck. "Are you insane? My dad bought me this boat! You can't take my boat!"
"Ma'am, step back," the deputy ordered calmly.
My mother rushed up, her voice screeching through the dock's PA system. "Do you know who we are? My husband is the CEO of Sterling Logistics! Call our lawyer immediately!"
"Your lawyer has already been served, Mrs. Sterling," the court receiver stepped forward, his voice amplified by the quiet night air. "Furthermore, all corporate and personal accounts associated with Sterling Logistics have been frozen pending a forensic investigation into felony trust conversion filed by the legal counsel of Vivienne and Leo Sterling."
The moment my name echoed across the dock, my father’s face drained of every ounce of color. He dropped the microphone, and the heavy metallic clatter rang out across the quiet marina.
Chloe looked around at her friends, who were already pulling out their phones, recording the scene for social media. "Vivienne?" Chloe shrieked, her voice cracking in pure, ugly rage. "Vivienne did this?! That useless cripple ruined my party?!"
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"The vessel is now state property," the deputy said, gesturing to two officers who walked up the gangway to begin clearing the guests. "Clear the deck immediately, or you will be arrested for obstruction of justice."
On the hospital screen, I watched as my mother burst into hysterical tears, her silk dress catching on the railing as she was escorted off the boat, while my father stood paralyzed on the dock, watching his fake wealth vanish into the Pacific night.
