Chapter 6: The Subpoena
Chapter 6: The Subpoena
Sarah Jenkins did not walk into a courtroom; she invaded it.
On Monday morning, the fluorescent lights of the downtown courthouse glinted off Sarah’s silver briefcase as she slapped a stack of thick legal bindings onto the clerk's desk. The media had been expecting a standard preliminary hearing for Grant’s criminal charges. They were entirely unprepared for the legal nuclear bomb Sarah was about to drop.
Alongside the criminal prosecution being handled by the District Attorney, Sarah officially filed a multi-million-dollar civil lawsuit on behalf of Madeline Reed against Grant Walker for intentional infliction of emotional distress, assault, and battery. But she didn't stop there. She named William Walker and Walker Enterprises as co-defendants, citing gross negligence and systemic conspiracy to cover up felony abuse.
"By filing the civil suit concurrently, we trigger immediate discovery," Sarah explained to Charles and Madeline later that afternoon in her office, pacing in front of her whiteboard. "The criminal trial is restricted by the DA's pacing and beyond a reasonable doubt. But in a civil suit? I am the captain of the ship. I have subpoena power right now."
She turned and tapped the whiteboard right on the words APEX HOLDINGS.
"I just served the Walker family’s primary bank with a subpoena for all financial records, transfers, and NDAs associated with Apex Holdings over the last ten years," Sarah grinned, looking like a shark that had just smelled blood in the water. "Vance is going to lose his mind trying to quash it. But the judge assigned to the civil docket hates corporate cover-ups. He’s going to grant us access."
The retaliation was swift and utterly ruthless.
On Wednesday, Charles was sitting at his drafting table in his small architectural firm, Reed & Associates. He had built the company from the ground up over twenty years, employing ten loyal draftsmen and engineers. He was currently reviewing the blueprints for a massive, lucrative commercial plaza—a contract that kept his firm afloat.
His desk phone rang. It was David, the lead developer for the plaza project.
"Charles, I'm sorry," David said, his voice tight and uncomfortable. "We have to pull the contract. We're going with another firm."
Charles froze, his pencil snapping loudly between his fingers. "David, we’re halfway through the structural schematics. We have a signed agreement. What is going on?"
A heavy sigh echoed over the line. "I got a call from the zoning board this morning. Suddenly, our permits are being stalled. And then I got a call from William Walker’s office. He offered to finance the entire plaza at zero percent interest, on the condition that we cut ties with Reed & Associates immediately. Charles, I have investors. I can't fight William Walker. I'm so sorry."
The line went dead. Charles slowly placed the receiver back on the cradle. He looked out the glass walls of his office at his employees, who were typing away, oblivious to the fact that their biggest revenue stream had just been vaporized.
William Walker was trying to starve him out.
That evening, as Charles pulled into the driveway of the secure rental house where Madeline was staying, he noticed a sleek, jet-black Lincoln Town Car idling at the curb. The tinted window slowly rolled down as Charles stepped out of his truck.
Sitting in the back seat, illuminated by the soft glow of a reading light, was William Walker. The billionaire patriarch looked exactly like his son, only older, colder, and infinitely more dangerous. He wore a bespoke charcoal suit, and his eyes held the dead, calculating stare of a man who measured human lives in dollars and cents.
"Mr. Reed," William called out, his voice smooth and gravelly. "I hear you lost the plaza contract today. A tragic turn of events for a small business like yours."
Charles didn't flinch. He walked over to the car, stopping a few feet from the open window. He looked down at the billionaire, his expression entirely devoid of fear.
"Is this the part where you offer me a check to make the lawsuit go away?" Charles asked flatly. "Or is this the part where you threaten to break my legs?"
William chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "I don't break legs, Charles. I break foundations. You have stumbled into an arena you do not understand. You think you are righteous. You think this is a movie where the working-class father beats the evil tycoon. It isn't. I will ruin your business. I will foreclose on your home. I will tie your daughter up in litigation for the next decade until she is so exhausted she begs me to let it go. Drop the Apex Holdings subpoena, and your plaza contract comes back tomorrow."
"You're bleeding, William," Charles said quietly.
William frowned. "Excuse me?"
"You're bleeding, and the sharks are smelling it," Charles repeated, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "You wouldn't be parked outside my house if you weren't terrified. You're not here to intimidate me; you're here because you know Sarah Jenkins is about to open the ledger on Apex Holdings. You know we found Chloe. You know that by next week, the DA is going to see the paper trail of how you covered up your son's crimes."
William’s jaw clenched tight, the muscles ticking beneath his skin. The smooth veneer of the billionaire tycoon cracked, revealing a flash of genuine panic beneath.
"Your son made a mistake when he put his hands on my daughter," Charles continued, his eyes burning with an intense, unyielding fire. "But you made a bigger mistake when you tried to buy me off. You can take my firm. You can take my house. I don't care. I am going to tear your family's legacy to the ground, brick by brick, and I am going to watch you and your son rot in a cell."
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Charles stood up straight, turned his back on the billionaire, and walked toward his front door without looking back.
In the back of the town car, William Walker sat in stunned silence. For the first time in thirty years, his money had failed to buy submission. And as the car drove away into the night, the patriarch of the Walker family realized with cold, dawning horror that his son's mess was going to destroy them all.
