Chapter 7 - THE STRIPPED ASSETS
Four days later, I landed back in Chicago with Lucas and Paige.
The three days we spent alone in San Diego had been magnificent. We went to the San Diego Zoo, took a private boat tour around the harbor, ate fish tacos by the beach, and spent hours swimming in the hotel pool. For the first time in years, my children were relaxed, laughing, and completely free from the toxic cloud of their mother's family.
When I dropped Lucas and Paige off at my sister Sarah's house for a fun sleepover with their cousins, I drove straight to our four-bedroom suburban home in Naperville.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed a beaten-up pickup truck parked near the garage.
Sitting on the front porch steps was my brother-in-law, Lance.
When he saw my SUV pull up, Lance stood up immediately, marching down the driveway toward me. He looked furious, his face red, wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans.
"You think you're a real tough guy, don't you, Miller?!" Lance yelled as I stepped out of the car.
I didn't flinch. I stood by my driver's door, calmly locking the vehicle. "What are you doing on my property, Lance?"
"You canceled my car lease!" Lance shouted, stepping up to my face. "The repo company came to my apartment two days ago and towed my SUV right out of the parking lot! All my work gear was in the back! You ruined my life!"
"Your 'work gear'?" I chuckled softly. "Lance, you haven't worked a real job since 2021. You lived off my monthly allowance, driving a fifty-thousand-dollar truck that I paid for while you lied to your friends about being an 'independent consultant.'"
"Courtney is my sister!" Lance spat. "Family helps family!"
"Courtney is getting divorced," I said, my voice turning dropping into an icy register. "Which means you are officially nothing to me. Get off my driveway before I call the Naperville police department and have you removed for criminal trespassing."
Lance raised his fist, stepping closer. "You listen to me, you little corporate bastard—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a black sedan pulled up to the curb behind my SUV.
My attorney, Arthur Vance, stepped out of the driver's seat, holding a thick leather briefcase, accompanied by a uniform process server wearing a sheriff's deputy badge.
Lance froze, looking between Arthur, the deputy, and me.
"Mr. Lance Lawson?" the deputy asked firmly, walking up the driveway.
"Yeah... what?" Lance stammered, backing up a step.
The deputy handed him a thick white envelope. "You have been formally served with a third-party witness subpoena and asset freezing injunction regarding the marriage dissolution of Brandon and Courtney Miller. You are ordered to produce all bank records regarding eighty thousand dollars in unauthorized transfers within fourteen days."
Lance stared at the legal documents in his hand, his face draining of all color. "What... what is this?"
"That, Lance," Arthur Vance said smoothly, adjusting his tie as he walked up to us, "is a formal court order requiring you to explain to a family court judge why you shouldn't be held criminally liable for grand larceny and wire fraud."
Lance looked at me in absolute terror. "Brandon... man, come on... we're family..."
"You told my nine-year-old son four days ago that he wasn't 'blood,'" I reminded him quietly. "Now get off my lawn."
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Lance turned around, stumbled down the driveway, got into his beaten-up pickup truck, and sped away down the street, his tires screeching against the asphalt.
Arthur turned to me with a sharp, victorious smile. "Phase Three is officially underway, Brandon. Let's go inside and review Courtney's counter-filing."
