Chapter 5 - The Counter-Attack
The federal prosecutor’s office in downtown Dallas smelled of stale coffee, old paper, and bureaucratic urgency.
Assistant United States Attorney Sarah Vance—no relation to the disgraced local politician, but sharing his relentless appetite for corruption cases—pushed a thick stack of printed forensic audits across her metal desk. She looked up at David and Emma with sharp, analytical eyes.
"Mr. Costa, Mrs. Costa," Attorney Vance said, folding her hands neatly over the files. "I’ve spent the last six hours reviewing the data your forensic team uploaded overnight. To be blunt, this is one of the most brazen cases of familial exploitation and corporate embezzlement I’ve seen in my career."
Emma sat straighter in her chair, gripping David’s hand beneath the desk. "Can we press full criminal charges? Is there enough to freeze their assets immediately?"
"More than enough," Vance replied, pulling a gold pen from her pocket and tapping it against the desk. "Between the unauthorized offshore property acquisitions in Miami, the falsified power-of-attorney documents, and the systematic diversion of corporate payroll funds to personal accounts, your mother, your sister, and your brother are looking at multiple felony counts of wire fraud, grand larceny, and conspiracy. Total exposure could easily exceed fifteen to twenty years in federal prison."
David nodded slowly, his expression devoid of pity. "Do it. Freeze every account they control. Seize the Miami condo, Jennifer’s designer inventory, and Michael’s luxury vehicles. Leave them with nothing."
"There is one complication," Vance cautioned, leaning forward. "Your mother has already retained high-priced defense counsel—ironically, using a retainer fee wired from one of your corporate accounts three days ago before we blocked the routing numbers. They’re going to claim that you, Mr. Costa, authorized these funds as gifts and family allowances during your extended absences abroad, and that this is merely a bitter domestic dispute being blown out of proportion."
A cold, humorless smile touched David’s lips. "Let them try. Every single wire transfer, every communication, and every text message sent to Emma over the past five years was logged and archived. We didn't just keep financial records—we kept a digital paper trail of every lie they told."
He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a secure, encrypted flash drive, placing it gently beside the files.
"Inside this drive," David said smoothly, "are three hundred pages of text message transcripts between Margaret and Jennifer mocking Emma, bragging about how easily they manipulated me, and explicitly instructing my wife to do manual labor around the estate while pretending to be 'humble' for guests. There’s also audio recordings Emma secretly saved of my mother threatening her livelihood if she ever tried to contact me directly about the missing funds."
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Attorney Vance stared at the flash drive, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across her face. "Well, Mr. Costa. It looks like your family didn't just commit fraud—they documented it."
"Greed makes people sloppy," David said, standing up and buttoning his jacket. "Execute the warrants."
