It was a formal, legally binding cease-and-desist order. It outlined, in agonizing, terrifying legal jargon, that any further attempts to contact me, harass me, stalk my previous residences, or publicly smear my name to extort funds would be met with immediate, aggressive legal action. It specifically referenced their attempt to destroy my mail, reminding them that tampering with the postal service was a federal offense that my legal team was fully prepared to report if they crossed the line.
I sat in the plush, leather-bound office of my new lawyer, Mr. Sterling, reviewing the final closing documents for the purchase of a small commercial property I intended to turn into a bookstore.
“They called the office this morning, Ms. Vance,” Sterling noted casually, adjusting his expensive silver-rimmed glasses as he flipped through a file. “Your mother demanded to speak with you. When my receptionist refused, she claimed there was a ‘verbal contract’ in place, stating that you owed them fifty percent of your winnings as retroactive payment for raising you.”
I paused, my expensive fountain pen hovering over the signature line of the real estate contract. I looked up, an amused smile playing on my lips. “And what exactly did you tell her, Mr. Sterling?”
Sterling looked over his glasses, a very small, very sharp, predatory smile appearing on his face.
“I told her that unless she had a signed, notarized, itemized invoice for your childhood, she was more than welcome to try her luck in front of a superior court judge against a firm that bills at eight hundred dollars an hour,” Sterling said smoothly. “She hung up rather quickly after that.”
I laughed, a bright, genuine sound, and signed my name on the dotted line.
Chapter 5: The Karma of Entitlement
Six months passed.
