Chapter 177
Chapter 177:
“Two hundred thousand dollars,” Aurora clarified. “And you’ll p>
“And I’ll sign a non-disclosure,” Russo grinned, revealing yellow teeth. “You’ll never hear from me again p>
Grandpa Vance sat in the corner in his wheelchair, silent as a stone statue, his hands resting on his knees.
Aurora turned around. She held a teacup, but she didn’t drink.
“Is that your final price p>
“Yeah,” Russo said. “Cash or p>
Aurora smiled. It was a terrifying smile.
“Alfred,” she called out softly.
The butler, who had been standing near the side entrance to the private study, nodded once and threw the double doors open. He wasn’t holding a checkbook. He was gesturing to the men who had been waiting there since Aurora’s text message ten minutes ago.
Three men in sharp grey suits marched into the room, their briefcases swinging in perfect unison. They didn’t look like family friends. They looked like sharks in human skin, the kind of corporate litigators who ate small-time crooks for lunch.
“My legal team,” Aurora said. She set the teacup down. “And a representative from the Housing Authority p>
The lead lawyer opened the briefcase on the coffee table. He didn’t speak. He just placed a stack of documents in front of Russo.
Aurora walked over. She picked up the first document.
“Document A,” she read calmly. “A countersuit for illegal eviction, failure to maintain habitable conditions, and extortion p>
She dropped it on the table. She picked up the second.
Find it at
“Document B,” she continued. “Building code violations. We had an inspector visit your property this morning. While you were driving here to blackmail me, my team was documenting the mold, the faulty wiring, and the lead paint in Unit 4B p>
Russo turned pale. “You can’t do that p>
“I just did,” Aurora said coldly. “We have photos. We have tenant testimonies. We have proof that you turned off the heat in the winter to force rent-controlled tenants out. That’s a felony, Dominic p>
The room went dead silent.
“Document C,” the lawyer spoke for the first time. His voice was dry and lethal. “Tax fraud. You haven’t declared rental income for ten years. The IRS has already been notified p>
Russo stood up, shaking. “This is a setup p>
“No, this is consequences,” Aurora said. She leaned over the table, looking Russo in the eye. “You came here for a payday. Here it is p>
She tossed the file onto his lap.
“You leave with nothing but a court date,” she whispered. “And if you ever mention my name to the press… if you ever try to sell a story… I will bury you under so much litigation your grandchildren will be paying off the legal fees p>
Russo stared at the papers. His face turned red, then purple. Desperation took over. He realized his lottery ticket was actually a death sentence.
With a roar of rage, he lunged at Aurora. “You bitch! I’ll kill you p>