“My husband broke my leg with a wooden cane because I refused to surrender my company shares. Three days later, he returned to the hospital expecting me to be helpless—but my room was empty.” / Chapter 6 / 20

Chapter 6 - The Federal DragnetEvan stared at the white envelope in Dr. Harrison’s hand as if it were a coiled viper.

"What... what are you talking about?" Evan stammered, his confident demeanor shattering instantly. "Federal protection? She’s my wife! I am her legal healthcare proxy!"

"Not anymore, Mr. Mercer," Dr. Harrison replied coldly, snatching his sleeve back from Evan’s grip. "Seventy-two hours ago, a team of federal marshals and private medical transport arrived with a court order revoking your proxy rights, citing an active criminal investigation into severe domestic abuse and attempted homicide."

Richard stepped forward, his face turning an angry shade of purple. "This is absurd! I am Richard Mercer! Do you know who my attorneys are?! You can't hold a patient against her family's will!"

"I didn't hold anyone," Dr. Harrison said calmly, looking down his nose at Richard. "Mrs. Mercer requested her immediate transfer herself. And if I were you, gentleman, I wouldn't be standing in my hallway shouting. I'd be looking behind you."

Evan turned around slowly.

At the end of the orthopedic wing's long corridor, three men in dark charcoal suits were walking briskly toward them. Leading the group was a tall man in his late fifties with silver hair, sharp blue eyes, and a tailored double-breasted coat.

It was James Vance.

Beside James walked two uniformed officers from the Chicago Police Department’s Financial Crimes Division, along with a man carrying a heavy leather briefcase.

"Evan Mercer? Richard Mercer?" James asked, his voice echoing with absolute authority across the marble floor.

"Who the hell are you?" Evan demanded, trying to puff out his chest despite the sweat breaking out along his hairline.

"My name is James Vance. I am senior managing partner at Vance, Sterling & Croft, and primary legal counsel for Mrs. Claire Mercer," James stated smoothly. He didn't offer a hand. Instead, he gestured to the police officers beside him.

"You're too late, Mr. Vance," Diane sneered, stepping in front of her son like a mother hen. "Claire signed a statement admitting she fell down the stairs! It was an accident!"

James permitted himself a small, chilling smile.

"Mrs. Mercer’s initial statement was given under extreme physical coercion while trapped in a house with her attackers," James said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a tablet screen. "However, the high-definition, audio-enabled video captured by the hidden cellular camera in your foyer tells a much clearer story."

James pressed play.

From the tablet’s high-fidelity speakers, the horrific sound of the oak cane striking my leg—followed by my agonizing scream—echoed through the hospital hallway.

Crack.

“Sign it, Claire.” Evan’s voice on the recording was loud, clear, and unmistakable.

Evan’s jaw dropped. The color completely drained from his face, leaving him looking sickly green under the fluorescent hospital lights. Beside him, Diane let out a sharp gasp, her hand flying to her mouth, while Richard staggered back a step, nearly losing his balance against the wall.

"That... that's a privacy violation!" Richard roared, his voice trembling. "That footage is inadmissible!"

"It was recorded inside a property owned solely by Claire Mercer, on a private security network registered under her name," James countered flatly. "And as of 8:00 AM this morning, the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois has issued an emergency restraining order, an order of protection, and a freeze on all personal and corporate assets linked to Mercer Logistics."