Chapter 4 - The Paper Empire Collapses
By the next morning, news of the incident at the Mercer Distribution warehouse had exploded across Ohio media.
Headline after headline splashed across local television stations and online news portals:
"PROMINENT COLUMBUS CONTRACTOR ARRESTED IN CHILLING ATTEMPTED ARSON & EXTORTION SCHEME AGAINST STEPDAUGHTER."
Sloan’s online world collapsed in a matter of hours. The camera footage—specifically the audio clip of her smiling while her stepfather threatened to burn me alive—was leaked during the preliminary bail hearing. Her thousands of social media followers turned on her with brutal fury. Brands dropped her overnight, her comment sections were flooded with thousands of condemnations, and her precious "lifestyle entrepreneur" image was utterly destroyed.
Sitting in Richard Declan’s plush downtown office thirty-six hours later, I wore a comfortable wool sweater that covered the minor red heat-rash on my right forearm.
Richard slid a hot mug of tea toward me, his expression grave but deeply satisfied.
"The grand jury met this morning, Marin," Richard said, adjusting his glasses. "Alistair Vance has been indicted on charges of attempted premeditated murder, aggravated arson, extortion, and kidnapping. Because of the clear video evidence, the judge denied bail completely. He will remain in county custody until trial."
"What about my mother and Sloan?" I asked quietly.
"Sloan has been charged as an active accessory to felony extortion and kidnapping," Richard explained. "Her bail was set at $500,000. She can't afford it. Your mother was charged as an accessory after the fact, but her legal team is attempting to negotiate a plea deal by claiming she acted under domestic duress."
Richard paused, leaning forward on his desk. "But that’s only the criminal side of things, Marin. Now that Alistair is behind bars, his financial records have been sub-poenaed by the state prosecutor. And what they found explains why he was so desperate to get his hands on your eight point five million dollars."
I leaned in. "What did they find?"
"Alistair’s construction firm wasn't just struggling, Marin," Richard revealed, pulling out a thick red folder. "It was a massive, multi-million-dollar Ponzi scheme. For the past five years, he’s been taking upfront deposits from commercial clients, using that cash to pay off previous debts and fund Sloan’s lavish lifestyle, and forging building permits."
"He was completely broke," I realized, the pieces finally falling together.
"Worse than broke," Richard corrected. "He owed over four million dollars to private hard-money lenders—people connected to some very dangerous criminal elements in Cleveland. If he hadn't secured your inheritance money by this week, those lenders were going to seize his house and file criminal fraud charges against him anyway."
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"So he tried to kill me to save himself," I whispered.
"Exactly," Richard said. "But now, his creditors are coming after everything he owns. The house, the cars, the bank accounts—it's all being liquidated. Your mother and Sloan are going to lose every single penny they ever took from him."
