Chapter 4 - The Transaction of a Lifetime
The signing room at Vance & Associates was quiet, the only sound being the rustle of high-grade legal bond paper. Franklin sat across from Marcus and a female notary public who looked with quiet concern at the dark purple bruising covering the left side of Franklin's face.
"Mr. Reeves," the notary said gently. "Are you signing these documents of your own free will, without any duress or coercion?"
"I have never been more certain of a signature in my life, young lady," Franklin said, offering a small, reassuring smile that tugged painfully at his split lip.
He took the heavy Montblanc pen from the desk. With three swift, practiced strokes, he signed his name on the line marked Managing Member, Redwood Capital LLC.
The notary pressed her embossed seal onto the paper with a sharp, metallic clack.
"It’s done," Marcus said, looking at his computer screen. "The wire transfer from Blackwood Holdings has been initiated. The funds should clear our escrow account within the hour. I’ve already dispatched the locksmiths and the private security detail hired by the buying group to 1412 River Oaks Boulevard."
"How long until they arrive?" Franklin asked, checking his watch. It was 11:45 AM.
"They should be pulling into the driveway right about now," Marcus said.
Right on cue, the black smartphone on the conference table began to vibrate. The screen lit up with a high-definition contact photo of Brandon, wearing a hard hat and a smug grin.
Franklin picked up the phone. He slid his thumb across the screen and held the device to his ear. He didn't say a word. He simply waited.
"Franklin!" Brandon’s voice erupted through the speaker, completely stripped of the calm, arrogant authority he had held the night before. Now, he sounded frantic, high-pitched, and furious. "What the hell is going on? Amber just called me crying. There are three unmarked black SUVs parked in our driveway, and some guy in a suit with a clipboard is telling her she has two hours to pack her personal belongings before they lock the doors!"
"That sounds correct, Brandon," Franklin said, his voice as calm as a still lake.
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"Are you insane?" Brandon screamed. "You can't do this! This is my house! We’ve lived here for five years! My name is on the mailbox!"
"Your name is on the mailbox, Brandon," Franklin replied. "But my name is on the deed. Or rather, it was. Until about five minutes ago."
