Chapter 3 - Blood in the Water
Back in Asheville, the Langford household was falling apart.
Brielle Langford sat on the white leather sofa in their gated Biltmore Forest living room, refreshing her phone every ten seconds. An hour ago, her viral video mocking Tessa had passed one hundred thousand views. She had been gloating, imagining the country club girls laughing at Tessa’s ruin.
Then, at 4:15 PM, the screen had gone black.
A notification appeared: *Account Terminated for Malicious Harassment and Defamation.*
When she tried to log in through her backup account, the app locked her device entirely. A secondary text popped up from her talent agency’s chief talent manager: *“Brielle, our agency was just acquired by an offshore group. Your contract has been canceled with prejudice. Furthermore, you are being sued for six hundred thousand dollars in commercial breach. Do not contact us.”*
“Mom!” Brielle shrieked, jumping off the couch. “Mom! My accounts are gone! My sponsorships just dropped me!”
Marlene rushed into the room, her designer blouse rumpled, her makeup smeared. She looked five years older than she had this morning. In her hand, her phone was buzzing relentlessly.
“It’s the bank!” Marlene gasped, her voice cracked with hysteria. “The First National line of credit has been revoked! They said our collateral—the ships in Charleston—have been classified as maritime hazards!”
Warren Langford walked into the foyer, looking hollow-eyed and frail. He held a certified legal document delivered by courier only ten minutes prior.
“Warren!” Marlene turned on him, her panic turning into venom. “Do something! Call your contacts at the state department! Call the mayor! Who the hell was that man at the cabin?!”
Warren’s voice was barely a whisper. “We made a mistake, Marlene.”
“What mistake?! He was a lumberjack! He lived in a shack! You saw his truck!”
“I didn't check the deed to the lumberyard,” Warren said, his hands trembling as he stared at the paper. “I just wanted you to stop complaining about Tessa. I wanted her gone so you’d stop threatening divorce. But this... this letter is from the legal department of Rowe Global Holdings.”
Marlene froze. “Rowe? Like... the Rowe family that owns the shipping conglomerates?”
“Silas Rowe,” Warren said, sinking onto the hall bench. “Ten years ago, he bought out the entire timber and logistics sector of the state in a single weekend. He retired after his brother died. Marlene... he doesn't own a lumberyard. He owns the forest. He owns the ports. He owns forty percent of the banks that finance our payroll.”
Brielle let out a strangled wail. “No! That’s impossible! He was wearing muddy boots! He was driving a twenty-year-old truck!”
“Because he didn't care about impressing us!” Warren roared, suddenly finding a shred of rage, though it was five years too late. “He let us show our cruelty! And now he’s choking us to death!”
The front doorbell rang.
Marlene rushed to the door, hoping against hope that it was an apology, a misunderstanding resolved. She yanked it open.
Standing on the limestone porch were two deputies from the Buncombe County Sheriff’s Department, accompanied by Vance Croft.
“Mrs. Marlene Langford?” the lead deputy asked.
“Yes! What is this? Why are the police here?!”
Vance Croft stepped forward, his briefcase snapping open with a sharp, professional click. He handed her a thick sheaf of legal summons.
“You have been served, Mrs. Langford,” Vance said smoothly. “Civil injunction for unauthorized dissemination of personal likeness with intent to cause emotional distress. Furthermore, a forensic audit has been launched into Langford Agro-Tech by the Federal Trade Commission regarding the misappropriation of patent revenues belonging to the late Eleanor Langford.”
Marlene’s face drained of every drop of blood. “Eleanor’s patents? That was settled years ago!”
“It was never settled,” Vance countered, his eyes as cold as stone. “It was buried under fraudulent signatures provided by your brother’s accounting firm. Mrs. Tessa Rowe has authorized our firm to recover every cent stolen from her mother’s trust, with compound interest. The provisional freeze on your domestic accounts is effective as of three minutes ago.”
The deputy stepped up. “Ma’am, we also have an order to impound the silver Mercedes and the convertible parked in the driveway. The lease financing was secured through a creditor that Rowe Holdings purchased this afternoon. The keys, please.”
Brielle began to sob loudly, clutching her mother’s arm. “Mom! They can’t take my car! Tell them they can’t!”
Marlene lunged toward Vance, her manicured nails reaching for his face. “You tell that ungrateful little bitch Tessa that I’ll kill her! I fed her! I kept a roof over her head!”
The second deputy grabbed Marlene’s arm, twisting it behind her back and forcing her against the doorframe. “Ma’am, step back! One more aggressive move and you’re spending the night in county lockup for assaulting an officer!”
From the driveway, the tow trucks began hauling the luxury vehicles onto flatbeds. The neighbors in Biltmore Forest were already peeking through their manicured hedges, taking videos on their phones—the very humiliation Brielle had intended for Tessa now turning directly upon her.
May you like
Warren sat in the foyer, burying his face in his hands as the reality of his cowardice came crashing down on him.
***
