Chapter 5 - The Motel at the Edge of Town
Six miles away, in a run-down, neon-lit motel along the highway, the atmosphere was far from warm.
The room smelled of stale tobacco and damp carpet. Rain tapped against the cracked windowpane.
Margaret sat on the edge of a stained mattress, wearing a cheap cotton dress she had pulled from the trash bag. Her hair was a wild, messy bird's nest, her expensive makeup smeared across her wrinkled cheeks like war paint.
"This is impossible!" Ashley shrieked, kicking a plastic trash can across the room. "He can't just freeze our accounts! That's illegal! I'm his sister! I have rights!"
"Shut up, Ashley!" Michael barked from the corner, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, sweating through his undershirt. "You don't understand! Daniel didn't just freeze our credit cards! He dissolved the entire family trust framework! He was the sole grantor! We don't have anything!"
"What about our apartment in West Hollywood?" Margaret whimpered, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock and denial. "Michael... go to the apartment! We can stay there until Daniel calms down!"
"The apartment was owned by Ellison Holdings!" Michael yelled, pulling at his hair. "I tried the keycard on the way here! The building manager changed the electronic codes an hour ago! The guards threatened to arrest me if I didn't leave the lobby!"
"No... no..." Margaret wept, burying her face in her wrinkled hands. "This is that girl's doing! That little manipulative street rat! She turned my son against his own blood!"
"We need to fight back," Ashley said, her eyes flashing with a desperate, malicious light. "We go to the press! We call the local news stations! We tell them that the great billionaire Daniel Ellison abandoned his elderly mother and his pregnant sister in the rain! We ruin his public image! His company’s stock will plummet, and the board will force him to settle with us!"
Michael stopped pacing. A slow, greedy smile spread across his face. "She's right... Daniel is obsessed with his corporate reputation. The investors at Ellison Group hate scandal. If we threaten to drag his name through the mud with a public abuse lawsuit, he'll give us ten million just to make us shut up!"
Suddenly, a loud, aggressive knock echoed off the thin wooden motel door.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Margaret jumped. "Is... is that Daniel? Did he come to apologize?"
Michael hurried to the door, a triumphant grin on his face. "I knew he wouldn't let us stay here! He's coming to his senses!"
Michael unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
"Daniel, I knew you'd—"
The smile vanished instantly from Michael's face.
Standing in the rain outside the door were three heavy-set men wearing leather jackets, their arms covered in dark tattoos. The lead man, a broad-shouldered brute with a scar across his jaw named Viktor, stepped right into the motel room, shoving Michael backward onto the floor.
"Michael Whitcomb," Viktor growled in a deep, gravelly accent.
Michael scrambled backward on his elbows, his face draining of every drop of color. "Viktor! What... what are you doing here?"
"You owe my boss eight hundred thousand dollars from your poker losses last week," Viktor said, cracking his knuckles with a sickening sound. "You told us your billionaire brother’s company was paying off the line of credit today."
"I... I can explain!" Michael stammered, his voice rising to a frantic squeak. "There’s been a minor delay! Just give me forty-eight hours! My brother and I are negotiating—"
"We checked your brother's company five minutes ago," Viktor interrupted coldly. "Ellison Group issued a formal corporate notice stating you have no affiliation with the firm and that all family debt guarantees are null and void."
Viktor grabbed Michael by his collar, lifting him off the floor with one arm.
"Your brother threw you out, Michael," Viktor sneered. "Which means you don't have a billionaire backer anymore. You're just a broke, useless degenerate."
"Please!" Margaret screamed, rushing forward to grab Viktor’s coat. "Don't hurt my boy! We'll get the money! We have jewelry!"
Viktor backhanded Margaret away, sending her sprawling onto the dirty carpet. "Touch me again, old woman, and I’ll break your legs."
Ashley backed into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it, whimpering in terror.
"Here’s the deal, Michael," Viktor said, dropping Michael back onto his knees. "My boss wants his eight hundred grand by tomorrow night. If we don't have it, we start taking off fingers. Starting with your thumb."
May you like
Viktor turned around, stepping back out into the rain, leaving the motel door wide open to the howling wind.
Michael lay on the floor, weeping, clutching his mother as Margaret held him, both of them realizing for the very first time that without Daniel’s protection, they were nothing more than sheep surrounded by wolves.
