Chapter 4 - The Fraudulent Title
While Charles squeezed Ethan financially across the Atlantic, Harold turned his attention back to the home in Fishers, Indiana—the house I had been kicked out of five days after giving birth.
That afternoon, Harold’s private jet flew Charles, Marcus, and me to Indianapolis.
We drove in a motorcade of three black Lincoln Navigators to the headquarters of Apex Title & Guarantee, the title company that had processed the fraudulent sale of my home.
We walked into the marble lobby of the executive suite.
The CEO of Apex Title, a pompous man named Gregory Vance, hurried out of his office, looking annoyed by our unannounced arrival.
"Can I help you people?" Gregory snapped, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. "This is a private corporate floor."
Charles Montgomery didn't bother introducing himself. He simply tossed a two-hundred-page legal brief onto the receptionist's glass desk with a loud, thunderous thud.
"My name is Charles Montgomery, Chief Legal Counsel for Bennett Industrial," Charles said, his voice echoing through the lobby. "And this is Mrs. Claire Whitmore."
Gregory’s face went slightly pale upon hearing Bennett Industrial, but he tried to maintain his composure. "Mrs. Whitmore? Ah... the Fishers property. Look, ma'am, I understand you have a domestic dispute with your husband, but our title company processed that sale based on notarized documents. The buyers are innocent third parties. The closing is complete."
"Is that so, Mr. Vance?" Charles asked, stepping right into Gregory’s personal space. "Then perhaps you can explain why the notary public stamp on Mrs. Whitmore’s signature belongs to a woman named Sarah Jenkins—who happens to be Victoria Sterling’s sister?"
Gregory blinked nervously, sweat suddenly break out along his hairline. "I... we don't screen the personal relationships of licensed state notaries..."
"You do when the closing occurred at 2:00 p.m. on October 12th," Charles replied, pulling out a certified hospital log. "At 2:00 p.m. on October 12th, Mrs. Whitmore was under general anesthesia in the operating room of St. Vincent Hospital undergoing an emergency C-section, signed off by three chief surgeons."
Charles leaned across the desk, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Your title company committed reckless gross negligence and title fraud by failing to verify the identity of a seller who was physically incapable of signing. You issued a fraudulent title policy."
Gregory stammered, pulling at his collar. "We... we can offer a financial settlement through our insurance carrier—"
"We don't want your insurance money, Mr. Vance," I stepped forward, my voice ringing clear and steady through the office. "I want my house back. And I want the innocent family who bought it compensated entirely out of your corporate pocket, today."
Harold Bennett walked up beside me, resting his hands on his silver-headed cane.
"Mr. Vance," Harold said softly, "Bennett Industrial happens to own sixty percent of the commercial mortgage portfolio held by the regional bank that finances your title company’s operating capital. If Mrs. Whitmore’s house is not fully restored to her sole ownership within forty-eight hours, I will call my board and pull every line of credit your business relies on. You will be bankrupt by Friday."
Gregory Vance looked at Harold, then at the mountain of legal documents, and collapsed back into a chair, completely defeated.
May you like
"The title will be voided by morning," Gregory whispered hoarsely. "We will repurchase the home from the buyers and transfer the deed directly to Mrs. Whitmore."
I looked at Harold and smiled. For the first time in weeks, the heavy weight in my chest felt lighter.
