Chapter 4 - The Repo Man’s Symphony
At 8:30 AM, the second phase of the operation went live.
I forwarded the verified financial audit detailing the fraudulent wire transfers directly to the corporate compliance department of Pacific Northwest Motors, along with a formal legal affidavit confirming that the cashier’s check used by Chloe Carter to purchase her matte-black luxury SUV two days prior had been drawn from stolen, unverified corporate funds.
Under Washington state law, purchasing a motor vehicle with misappropriated trust assets renders the transaction voidable ab initio.
Translation: the car didn't belong to Chloe. It belonged to the corporate entity she had just defrauded. And since I now controlled that entity, the car belonged to me.
At 8:45 AM, my phone buzzed with a picture text from an unknown number.
It was a snapshot of a gleaming, matte-black luxury SUV parked in the driveway of my parents’ Bellevue home, with a tow truck winch already hooked securely to its front axle.
A second later, a text arrived from Chloe herself, entirely in all caps:
ELENA WHERE IS MY CAR THEY ARE TOWING IT HELP ME STOP THEM DAD WONT ANSWER HIS PHONE MOM IS CRYING ON THE KITCHEN FLOOR WHAT DID YOU DO?!
May you like
I didn't reply immediately. I waited a full three minutes—long enough for her to feel the crushing weight of absolute, helpless panic—before typing back a single, perfect sentence:
Check the floor mats, Chloe. You might find another card.
