Chapter 5 - Cornered Rats
While Evan was being escorted out of Mercer Logistics by two security guards past staring employees, Diane Mercer was sitting in the gilded living room of her West Vancouver mansion, sipping mimosa cocktails with her daughter Brooke.
"Don't worry about it, Mom," Brooke sneered, painting her nails a brilliant shade of crimson. "Evan will handle her. Claire is weak. She's been a doormat for three years. Once Evan threatens to take away her credit cards, she'll come crawling back weeping and apologizing."
"She ruined my silk blouse," Diane hissed, looking at her ruined clothes hanging on a chair nearby. "When Evan gets control of her trust, I'm going to make sure she cleans this entire house on her hands and knees."
The front doorbell rang loudly, echoing through the high-ceilinged foyer.
"That's probably Evan now," Diane said, setting her glass down and walking toward the grand entry. "He probably made that ungrateful girl sign an apology letter."
Diane pulled open the heavy wrought-iron door—only to find two men in dark suits standing beside a process server holding two thick yellow envelopes.
"Diane Mercer? Brooke Mercer?" the process server asked.
"Yes," Diane said, frowning. "Who are you?"
"You have been served," the man said, shoving two heavy legal packages into her hands. "Notice of Emergency Asset Freeze, Court File 24-0987, Supreme Court of British Columbia."
Diane stared at the papers in horror. "Asset freeze?! What is this nonsense?!"
One of the dark-suited men stepped forward, pulling a silver badge from his jacket. "Mrs. Mercer, I am Investigator Harris from the Canada Revenue Agency Special Investigations Division. We are executing a court-ordered freezing injunction on all bank accounts, investment properties, and credit facilities associated with your name, pending a tax evasion and money laundering inquiry."
"What?!" Brooke shrieked, running up behind her mother. "You can't freeze our accounts! How are we supposed to pay for anything?!"
"Effective nine AM today, all accounts associated with Diane Mercer and Brooke Mercer have been locked," Investigator Harris stated flatly. "Furthermore, the vehicle parked in your driveway—the 2025 Mercedes Benz S-Class—has been identified as an asset purchased with embezzled corporate funds from Mercer Logistics. The tow truck will be here in ten minutes to impound it."
"No!" Diane screamed, her voice cracking as she clutched the yellow envelope to her chest. "That's my car! Evan bought that for my sixty-fifth birthday!"
"Evan Mercer bought that car using money stolen from Claire Hartwood's estate trust," Investigator Harris replied coldly. "Good day, ladies."
As the investigators walked down the driveway, Evan’s taxicab pulled up to the curb. Evan stepped out, looking disheveled, his tie undone, his hair messy, clutching a cardboard box containing his personal belongings from his office.
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"Mom!" Evan shouted, running up the driveway. "Mom, we have a huge problem! Claire took the company! She fired me!"
Diane looked at her son, then looked down at the court-ordered asset freeze notice in her hands. The mimosa glass she was holding slipped from her fingers, shattering into a hundred sharp, glittering pieces against the stone steps.
