Chapter 26 - The True Owner
"You thought you owned Medina Holdings, Mother," Ethan said, walking up the steps of the stage, one measured, heavy step at a time.
With every step he took, Victoria backed away until her spine hit the projection screen showing her fraudulent wire transfers.
"My grandfather Medina knew exactly what kind of monster his daughter was," Ethan continued, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a yellowed, wax-sealed document. "That’s why thirty-five years ago, before he died, he created an irrevocable spendthrift trust."
Victoria’s eyes darted wildly. "That trust was dissolved! I signed the nullification papers in ninety-eight!"
"You signed a forgery," Richard said, joining his son on the stage. "The real trust deed was never in the house. It wasn't in the family vault. Your father left it in a private deposit box in London, accessible only by two signatures: mine... and Ethan’s upon the birth of his first legal child."
Ethan unfolded the parchment, holding it up so the cameras could catch the raised golden seal of the Medina family registry.
"Under the terms of the Medina Foundation Trust," Ethan stated, looking directly into the camera lenses, "the moment Victoria Medina-Carter commits an act of moral turpitude resulting in a felony indictment, her lifetime dividend is immediately revoked. Her shares are forfeited. Her authority over the family properties is dissolved."
He turned his gaze back toward Victoria, his eyes completely dead.
"And everything—the properties, the accounts, the holding companies, the land Whispering Pines sat upon—transfers unconditionally to the next legal heir."
Ethan turned to me.
I walked up the stage, holding Lily in my arms. My three-year-old daughter, whom Victoria had slapped me over, whom Victoria had called a street rat and an embarrassment to the family bloodline.
"Her name is Lily Medina Carter," Ethan announced to the entire world. "She owns Whispering Pines. She owns the company. She owns every single cent you tried to steal."
Ethan stepped directly into Victoria's personal space, towering over her trembling, shriveled figure.
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"You don't even own the dress you're wearing, Mother. You are completely, utterly broke."
***
