Chapter 7 - The Battle for the FarmThe drive to upstate New York took nearly three hours. The highway transitioned from crowded city streets to rolling hills and dense forests, the autumn leaves painted in shades of violent orange and crimson.
Throughout the entire drive, Esther was on the phone with her father, keeping him calm without letting him know the danger he was in. Thomas was an old, gentle man, a retired history teacher who believed the world was fundamentally good. He had no idea his daughter had been turned into a servant, or that his home was being used as a pawn in a billionaire’s game.
“I’m fine, Esther-bear,” Thomas’s frail, gravelly voice echoed through the car’s Bluetooth speakers. “Just watching the birds on the porch. A big black car parked down by the road earlier, but they haven't bothered me. Are you and Preston coming to visit?”
“Yes, Dad,” Esther said, her voice shaking as she choked back her tears. “We’re almost there. Keep the doors locked until we arrive, okay?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Safe travels.”
When the call disconnected, I glanced at the rearview mirror. Behind us were two unmarked black sedans—private security personnel I had hired from a high-end firm in the city, along with a state trooper vehicle I had coordinated through a contact at the precinct.
We turned onto the gravel road leading to the farm at 4:30 PM. The sun was beginning to set, casting long, eerie shadows across the overgrown fields.
Sure enough, parked right outside Thomas’s wooden gate was the dark SUV from the photograph. Two men in heavy black coats were leaning against the hood, smoking cigarettes and watching the house like vultures.
The moment my SUV tore down the gravel path, kicked up a cloud of dust, and slammed to a halt in front of them, the two men straightened up, their hands moving instinctively toward their jackets.
But before they could move, the two private security cars and the state trooper vehicle boxed them in from behind. Four armed guards and a state trooper jumped out, weapons drawn.
“Hands where I can see them! Step away from the vehicle!” the trooper yelled.
The two thugs looked around, realizing they were completely outmatched, and slowly raised their hands into the air, surrendering without a fight.
I jumped out of the car, pulled the door open for Esther, and we rushed up the wooden steps of the porch. Thomas opened the door, blinking in confusion at the flashing police lights in his yard.
“Esther? Preston? What in God’s name is going on?” Thomas gasped, looking at the police officers cuffing the two men by the road.
Esther threw her arms around her father’s neck, weeping openly as she held him tightly. “You’re safe, Dad. You’re safe now.”
I stepped forward, shaking the old man’s hand before looking out at the road. One of my security guards walked over to me, holding a smartphone he had confiscated from one of the thugs.
“Mr. Kingsley,” the guard said, handing me the device. “The last incoming call on this phone came from an unlisted number five minutes ago. The text message tells them to 'proceed with the eviction' if they didn't hear from the main office by 5:00 PM.”
I looked at the screen. The text was sent from a secure application, but the signature at the bottom was plain as day: E.K.
“She’s at the estate,” I said, my voice turning to stone. “She’s waiting for the midnight deadline. Trooper, I want these men processed immediately. This text message is proof of criminal coercion and conspiracy.”
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“We’ve got enough to arrest her tonight, Mr. Kingsley,” the trooper said, nodding grimly.
“No,” I replied, looking out over the fading horizon. “Don't arrest her yet. I want to look her in the eye when her world finally ends.”
