Chapter 5 - The Foreclosure Notice
Two weeks later.
The autumn leaves in downtown Boston were turning vibrant shades of red and gold, but inside the luxury penthouse where I had spent five years of my life, the atmosphere was decaying into total ruin.
I stood across the street, wearing a dark trench coat and sunglasses, sitting quietly inside Ethan’s SUV.
A large yellow notice had been slapped onto the heavy glass doors of the apartment building’s main entrance: NOTICE OF JUDICIAL FORECLOSURE AND PUBLIC AUCTION.
Mark’s primary lender, Eastern National Bank, had accelerated the debt on the penthouse after Vance Holdings defaulted on three consecutive commercial mortgage payments. Without Arthur Sterling’s two-million-dollar cash injection, Mark’s financial house of cards had completely collapsed.
"Look," Ethan said, pointing toward the building exit.
Two uniformed movers were carrying expensive Italian leather sofas, crystal chandeliers, and oil paintings out of the front doors, loading them into the back of a large yellow moving truck.
Behind the movers walked Mark and Eleanor.
Mark looked like a shadow of his former self. He had lost weight, his designer suit was wrinkled and stained, and his eyes were hollowed out by sleepless nights and intense stress. Eleanor was walking with a wooden cane, her hair unstyled, weeping hysterically into a handkerchief as a bank officer handed her a final eviction notice.
Their high-society friends had completely abandoned them. Once the news of the federal bank fraud investigation and the domestic abuse restraining order hit the Boston business journals, no one in the city would take Mark’s phone calls.
Suddenly, a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb right in front of them.
Two men in dark suits stepped out, displaying federal badges.
"Mark Vance?" the lead agent asked sharply.
Mark froze, his hands trembling as he dropped his leather briefcase onto the pavement. "Yes?"
"I’m Special Agent Miller with the Federal Bureau of Investigation," the agent announced calmly. "You are under arrest for federal bank fraud, wire fraud, and grand larceny involving the illegal conversion of real estate titles."
"No! No!" Eleanor shrieked, throwing her arms around Mark's neck. "You can't take my son! It was that girl! It was Evelyn! She set us up!"
"Ma'am, step back!" the second agent commanded, firmly pulling Eleanor away.
The lead agent pushed Mark against the side of the moving truck, pulling his arms behind his back and snapping steel handcuffs onto his wrists.
"Mark Vance, you have the right to remain silent," the agent recited calmly. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
Mark turned his head frantically, his bloodshot eyes scanning the street until he caught sight of Ethan’s black SUV parked across the road.
Through the tinted glass, I slowly lowered my sunglasses and looked straight at him.
Mark’s face went completely white. He realized, with absolute certainty, that I was watching his absolute destruction.
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He didn't scream. He didn't fight back. He simply lowered his head in utter shame as the agents shoved him into the back seat of the black sedan and drove away into the Boston traffic.
"That's one," Ethan murmured softly, starting the SUV engine. "Now let's go finish the second one."
