CHAPTER 3
Ten minutes before Maxwell had pulled up to the security gate, my corporate attorney, Arthur Pendelton, had sent me an emergency text message that set this entire confrontation into motion.
Arthur had been monitoring my estate trusts ever since Julian called me from Madrid, knowing that Maxwell’s financial desperation was reaching a dangerous boiling point.
"Mrs. Morales," Marcus the security manager said softly, stepping between Maxwell and the heavy iron gate. "Do you want me to call the Newport Beach Police Department to escort these individuals off the premises?"
"Not yet, Marcus," I said, keeping my gaze locked on my son. "I want to hear my son explain why he forged my signature on an irrevocable transfer deed."
Samantha gasped, dropping her handbag onto the asphalt as she stared at Maxwell in total shock and fury.
"You forged her signature?!" Samantha screamed, turning on him like a wild animal cornered in a trap. "You told me your mother signed the house over to us as a wedding present!"
"I didn't forge anything!" Maxwell yelled back, panic entirely consuming his face as he looked around the quiet, gated neighborhood. "It was a power of attorney document! I was just organizing the family assets for tax purposes!"
"You tried to steal the home I built with my own sweat and tears, Max," I said, my voice dropping into a dangerous whisper that made him flinch. "You thought because I was seventy-two, my mind was weak and my eyes were blind."
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"Mom, you don't understand!" Maxwell cried out, reaching for my arm, but I pulled back before his fingers could even touch my sleeve. "I owe people money! Dangerous people from the venture capital group in Los Angeles!"
"Then you should have thought about those people before you bought a five-thousand-dollar watch and a Mercedes you couldn't afford," I replied without a single drop of pity.
