PART 7:

” “Where did you learn that?” “TV?” “Well, Viven’s different.” Ellie studied Viven thoughtfully. “Is she going to be my new mom?” Nathan nearly dropped the tile he was holding. What? No, she’s just We’re just Tommy said when ladies help dads with house stuff, it means they’re dating. Tommy needs to stop watching his mom’s reality shows.

But when Nathan glanced at Viven, she was smiling slightly while pretending to focus very hard on cleaning grout. By Wednesday evening, the apartment looked better than it had in years. New paint on the walls, working smoke detectors, a refrigerator that actually closed all the way.

Viven had even bought Ellie a new bed frame after discovering the old one was held together mostly by duct tape and hope. You didn’t have to do that, Nathan said. The receipt says it’s from a charity organization, completely legitimate. Viven handed him the paperwork. If CPS asks, you applied for assistance 3 weeks ago and it just arrived. You’re getting good at this.

At what? Fighting dirty. Viven’s smile was sharp. Mercer taught me everything he knows. He just never considered I might use it against him. The CPS inspector arrived Thursday at 9:00 a.m. sharp. Her name was Patricia Gomez, and she had the exhausted efficiency of someone who’d seen too many bad situations to waste time on polite small talk.

She went through every room with a clipboard and a measuring tape, checked the smoke detectors, tested the outlets, examined the water heater and the furnace and the structural integrity of the stairs. Nathan stood in the garage trying to look calm while Vivien pretended to work on her laptop at his desk. After 45 minutes, Patricia came back downstairs.

Everything checks out, she said. Apartment meets minimum safety standards. I’ll file my report this afternoon. Nathan exhaled for what felt like the first time in days. Thank you. For the record, Patricia lowered her voice. I’ve been doing this job for 12 years. I know a bogus complaint when I see one. Someone wanted to rattle you.

Did it work? She glanced at the freshly painted walls and new bed frame visible through the apartment door. Looks like you rattled them back. After Patricia left, Nathan sat down heavily on an overturned crate. “One down,” Vivian said. “About a thousand more to go.” She wasn’t wrong.

That afternoon, Nathan’s business insurance sent a cancellation notice. Apparently, his policy was being reviewed for fraudulent claims. That evening, the local bank called to inform him his line of credit was being suspended pending an investigation into unreported income. Friday morning brought a visit from the IRS. They wanted to audit his tax returns for the past 7 years.

This is harassment, Vivien said, reading through the audit notice. Blatant, obvious harassment. It’s Mercer tying up loose ends. Nathan was under a Honda Civic replacing an oil pan. His voice echoed off the concrete. He knows the federal prosecutor meeting is next week. He’s trying to bury me in legal problems so I look like a tax cheat and a fraud before I can testify.

We can fight this. With what money? Legal defense costs thousands of dollars. IRS audits can drag on for years. Vivian was quiet. Nathan rolled out from under the civic, wiping his hands. You should distance yourself from me publicly before this destroys your credibility, too. No, Viven. I said no. She set down the audit notice.

Mercer wants us isolated. He wants you drowning in legal problems and me worried about my reputation. Classic divide and conquer. So, what do we do? We call his bluff. Viven pulled out her phone. I’m scheduling a press conference for Monday morning. I’m going to announce that Crossline Motors is cooperating fully with federal investigators, that we’ve uncovered evidence of systemic fraud within the executive team, and that you are a key witness whose documentation exposed the entire conspiracy.

Nathan sat up. That’ll put a target on both our backs. The target’s already there. At least this way we control the narrative. Mercer will retaliate probably, but he’ll have to do it publicly now. and every attack he makes just proves we’re telling the truth. Nathan studied her. The CEO, who’d shown up at his garage three weeks ago in designer heels, had been replaced by someone with grease under her fingernails and dark circles under her eyes, who talked about federal conspiracy charges like she was discussing quarterly earnings. “When did

you get so ruthless?” he asked. “I’ve always been ruthless. I just used to aim it at the wrong targets.” The press conference happened Monday at 10:00 a.m. in downtown Chicago. Viven stood at a podium in front of two dozen reporters while Nathan sat in the front row uncomfortable in a borrowed suit that didn’t quite fit.

She didn’t read from notes, just looked directly into the cameras and spoke. 3 weeks ago, I learned that Crossline Motors has been selling defective vehicles for over a decade. Vehicles that our own engineers warned us were dangerous. Vehicles that have killed at least 73 people and injured hundreds more. The reporters went silent.

For 10 years, executives at this company, including former COO Daniel Mercer, deliberately concealed these defects to avoid the cost of recalls. They falsified safety reports. They intimidated whistleblowers. They prioritized profit over human lives. Viven’s voice didn’t shake, didn’t waver. I am here today to announce that Crossline Motors is cooperating fully with federal investigators.

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