Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Mercer Construction
My father’s face turned from irritated red to an unhealthy, pale purple.
"You can't do this, Evan!" Dad shouted, his voice shaking. "We’re your blood! If Cole goes to jail and we lose our assets, the Mercer name is finished! Is that what you want? To destroy your family?"
"You destroyed yourselves," I replied, pulling a chair out from the dining table and taking a seat, resting my hands comfortably on my knees while my security team kept Cole pinned to the floor. "Arthur, present the secondary filings."
Arthur pulled a secondary folder from his briefcase and laid it on the kitchen island.
"While you were busy occupying Mr. Vance’s private penthouse," Arthur said, addressing my father and Cole, "our investigative team conducted a full forensic audit of Mercer Construction's public filings and subcontractor accounts over the last forty-eight hours."
Cole groaned from the floor, clutching his wrist. "What are you talking about?"
"Two years ago," Arthur continued calmly, "Mercer Construction took out a four-million-dollar emergency credit line from First Pacific Bank. To secure that loan, your father, Richard Mercer, forged a corporate guarantee using the name of an independent architectural consulting firm—Vance Design Group."
My father gasped, taking a staggering step back.
"You thought Vance Design Group was just a small firm owned by a distant third party," I said, looking directly at my father. "You didn't realize that Vance Design Group is a wholly owned subsidiary of my parent corporation. You used my corporate credit score and my company name to secure a fraudulent loan to bail out Cole’s gambling debts and failed developments."
The room went dead silent.
Even Tessa stopped screaming. She looked at Cole, then at my father, horror slowly dawning on her face.
"Dad..." Cole stammered from the floor. "What is he talking about?"
"He’s talking about bank fraud, Cole," I said. "Federal bank fraud. You and Dad didn't just ruin your own company. You tried to drag my company down with you to save yourselves. You thought if Vance Design took the hit when the loan defaulted, I would never find out because you assumed I was still a nobody."
My father sank onto the sofa, looking suddenly like an old, defeated man. The arrogant authority he had carried his entire life evaporated in an instant.
"Evan..." Dad whispered, his voice trembling. "I... I didn't know it was your company. I thought it was just a regional firm with a similar name... I was trying to save Cole..."
"You always were," I said softly. "You saved Cole when he dropped out. You saved him when he wrecked company trucks. You saved him when he stole from payroll. And while you were saving him, you let him beat me, insult me, and throw me out like garbage."
"We’re your parents!" my mother sobbed, clutching my father's arm. "We made mistakes, Evan! But you’re rich now! Look at this place! You have millions! Why can't you just forgive us and clear the debt? It’s just money to you!"
"It isn't about money," I said, standing up from my chair. "It was never about money. It was about respect. And you have none."
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I looked at the lead security officer.
"Officer Vance, call the Portland Police Department. Inform them that we have two suspects in custody for felony breaking and entering, grand larceny, and active federal warrants for corporate bank fraud."
