You Want My Grandma’s $8 BILLION Inheritance DREAM ON! SCUMBAG, Watch Your Empire COLLAPSE Overnight! Chapter 17
The third day of Langford Properties’ trading suspension.
The California Contractors State License Board released its findings.
The contractor’s license had been officially confirmed as fraudulent.
The New York waterfront redevelopment project was ordered to halt construction immediately.
That same day, the Financial Crimes Task Force formally ordered Alex to appear for questioning.
He showed up.
When he walked out, the fifty-yard stretch between police headquarters and the parking lot turned into a gauntlet.
Seven or eight reporters surrounded him from every direction.
One of Rachel’s colleagues caught the entire scene on camera.
Alex held a file folder over his face and practically sprinted to his car.
The man who had once ruled Wall Street in New York—
The man everyone respectfully called Mr. Langford wherever he went—
Now looked like a dog with nowhere left to run.
That evening, Diane called me.
I answered.
—
“Evelyn Grant!” she exploded before I could say a word. “You
ungrateful little bitch! If the Langford family hadn’t taken you in back
then, you’d be nobody! And your grandmother’s pathetic little hotel—”
“Ms. Langford,” I cut in evenly, “my grandmother’s hotel group was
valued at thirty billion dollars and generated 4.2 billion in annual
revenue.”
“The ‘pathetic little hotel’ you just mocked was worth roughly
twenty-eight times more than your son’s shell company—the one
propped up by forged documents.”
She went silent.
“And one more thing,” I continued.
“The police are already investigating the drugs you gave me. The
District Attorney’s Office is involved now.”
“If the evidence holds up, you’ll be facing felony aggravated assault
charges.”
“You’re fifty-seven this year, aren’t you?”
“By the time you get out of prison…”
“You’ll be well into your sixties.”
“Y-You wouldn’t dare!” she shrieked. “My son won’t let you—”
“Your son can barely save himself.”
I kept my voice calm.
“If I were you, Ms. Langford, I’d spend less time counting on Alex…”
—
“…and more time looking for the best criminal defense attorney I could afford.”
I hung up.
A second later, my phone rang again.
An unfamiliar number.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Grant? This is the executive producer of the Investigative News Division at New York Television. We’d like to invite you for an exclusive interview regarding the Langford Properties case—”
“No, thank you.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“I won’t be doing interviews.”
“Would you reconsider if—”
“We can talk after the court reaches a verdict.”
I ended the call.
I didn’t need public opinion to destroy Alex.
The law would do that for me.
All I had to do…
…was wait.
Wait for the hammer of justice to fall.