Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
The following week, the Chicago Tribune ran a headline that shook the city: “THE ARCHITECT OF LIES: CONCRETE FLAWS AND STOLEN BLUEPRINTS.”
Chase was in his office when the first investor call came in. Then the second. Then the subpoenas.
He thought it was a fluke. He thought he could outmaneuver the press, as he always had. He called Adeline’s phone, his voice a mixture of rage and fear.
“What did you do?” he roared. “Who did you talk to?”
“I didn't talk, Chase,” Adeline’s voice was cool, detached. “I simply documented the truth. You built your house on stolen land. It was time for it to be reclaimed.”
“I gave you a life!” he screamed.
“You gave me a cage,” she corrected. “And you didn't even notice when the bars began to rust.”
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The investors pulled out. The bank froze his assets. Brielle, seeing the writing on the wall, packed her bags and left him before the first bailiff arrived.
Chase was left in the empty, cold shell of the mansion, surrounded by the echoes of his own hubris.
