Selina’s expression transformed.
Godfrey stepped forward, his hostility suddenly replaced by warmth.
“Damian… brother,” Godfrey stammered, offering a warm, fake smile. “Look, things got out of hand here. You know how stressful it’s been with Phedra being sick. Mom was just trying to manage the household expenses so you wouldn’t be stressed at work!”
“Is that so?” I asked smoothly.
“Of course!” Selina chimed in, stepping toward me with her hands outstretched. “Damian, my son, we did everything for the family! If Phedra needs better private care, this settlement money changes everything! We can take her to the best oncology clinic in the city!”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Mom,” I said, my voice deadpan. “Because to release the escrow funds without an international audit, the bank requires me to confirm a clean local financial history. Meaning, every asset purchased with the money I sent over the last four years—the SUV, the house deed, Godfrey’s shop inventory—needs to be formally consolidated under one family holding agreement.”
Selina and Godfrey exchanged a quick, greedy glance.
They clearly assumed that consolidating the assets into one family trust would give them access to part of the million dollars.
“We can sign whatever you need, Damian!” Selina insisted quickly. “We’ll go to the notary tomorrow!”
“Good,” I said. “Because tonight, I’m taking my wife to a private hospital.”
Without saying another word, I lifted Phedra into my arms, carried her to a taxi, and left my family in the driveway already arguing over how they would spend money they were never going to touch.
**PART 3**
An hour later, Phedra was admitted to a top oncology pavilion.
The medical team moved quickly.
She was placed on an IV, given proper nutrition, and scheduled for comprehensive scans.
While doctors worked, I sat in a consultation room with an estate and corporate-litigation attorney I had hired immediately after leaving the airport.
His name was Arthur Vance.
I placed four years of bank-transfer records, tax documents, my original power-of-attorney papers, and the video I had secretly recorded from behind the fence in front of him.
“Your mother and brother haven’t just committed domestic abuse and neglect, Mr. Sterling,” Arthur Vance said, reviewing the financial ledger. “By placing the house deed, the vehicle title, and the business assets into Selina’s name while using funds sent under a specific oral trust for your wife’s care and property development, they have committed grand larceny, embezzlement, and fraud.”
“What about the settlement?” I asked.
Arthur smiled thinly.
“The settlement is held in your private, independent Canadian trust—completely untouchable by your family. But the ‘consolidation agreement’ you had them sign today?”
“What did it actually do?”
“It formally transferred legal ownership of the house, the land, the SUV, and Godfrey’s business inventory directly to you as sole restitution for the misappropriated funds—while making Selina and Godfrey personally liable for all accrued debts and back taxes on those properties.”
A cold satisfaction settled over me.
They believed they had signed documents guaranteeing themselves a share of the million dollars.
