Chapter 3 - Southline Residential Ventures
By Sunday morning, Rebecca had obtained the public pieces.
Southline Residential Ventures LLC had been formed by Luke four months earlier.
Oscar Bennett, Chloe’s husband, was registered agent.
The company’s mailing address was Brenda’s Nashville mansion.
That was the first thing that made me laugh.
Not because it was funny.
Because people planning secret financial deals had used the same house where they screamed at me to wash dishes.
Southline had signed a contract to acquire a partially completed luxury development in Atlanta called Sterling Row.
Twelve townhomes.
Original developer had gone bankrupt.
Asking price:
$5.8 million.
Southline needed a $900,000 deposit and proof of financing.
The $2.2 million loan against my apartment was intended as a bridge facility.
The rest would come from investors and construction financing later.
At least according to public filings.
“What does Luke know about real estate development?” Maya asked.
“Nothing.”
“What does Oscar do?”
“Commercial construction management.”
“That makes more sense.”
Oscar had always been quiet around Brenda.
He was thirty one, ambitious, and constantly talking about eventually owning his own development company.
I had assumed Southline might be that chance.
Then why Chloe needed my apartment?
I found out at noon.
A courier delivered documents from bank to Rebecca under my signed authorization.
Not entire investigative file.
Enough.
The loan package contained:
A valuation of my Atlanta apartment.
A copy of deed.
My tax summary.
Proof of insurance.
A document titled Property Pledge Consent.
My name appeared at bottom.
Signature.
It looked almost perfect.
But I knew instantly.
Not mine.
My H had a long lower curve.
This one didn’t.
Then a second document.
Residential Use Agreement.
It stated that after closing, the apartment would be occupied by:
Chloe Bennett and Oscar Bennett.
Rent:
One dollar annually.
Term:
Ten years.
I stared.
“They were going to put Chloe in my apartment?”
Rebecca said:
“It appears someone submitted a proposed occupancy agreement.”
“Signed by me?”
“Your signature appears.”
Again.
Not mine.
Then:
“Why would the lender care who lives there?”
“It may affect underwriting or intended use representations. We’re still assessing.”
I sat.
So Brenda had told truth about one thing.
Chloe really was supposed to get the apartment.
Not ownership.
Occupancy.
For essentially free.
While the property simultaneously backed a multimillion dollar loan connected to Southline.
I called nothing.
I sent nothing.
Then bank metadata.
The loan application had been initiated through an online business portal by Luke.
His name.
His email.
His phone.
The final uploaded documents came from a different user.
A credential tied to:
Chloe Bennett.
My skin went cold.
Chloe worked at Harcourt & Myers, an accounting firm.
She had just been promoted.
The party.
Suddenly the celebration felt different.
“What did Chloe upload?”
“Financial verification letters,” Rebecca said.
“From her firm?”
“Yes.”
One stated:
Harcourt & Myers had reviewed Hannah Ross’s personal financial position and confirmed sufficient income and assets to support the pledge.
It used firm letterhead.
Partner signature.
I had never hired Harcourt & Myers.
Rebecca said:
“I’m contacting them through counsel.”
“Could Chloe issue that?”
“Not lawfully without authorization from her firm and client basis.”
Then Luke’s text arrived.
Hannah, please answer.
Then:
We were going to tell you everything tomorrow.
I stared.
Tomorrow.
After the loan deadline.
Another:
The apartment was only temporary collateral. You were never going to lose anything.
That sentence gave Rebecca everything she needed.
She said:
“He’s admitting knowledge.”
“He thinks it helps.”
“Do not educate him.”
Then another:
Oscar has an incredible opportunity. Chloe needs Atlanta anyway. This helps everyone.
I whispered:
“Everyone except me.”
Maya sat beside.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown Atlanta number.
I nearly ignored.
Rebecca said:
“Answer on speaker.”
A woman introduced herself.
“Ms. Ross, my name is Patricia Cole. I’m general counsel for Harcourt & Myers.”
My pulse changed.
“We need to discuss documents submitted to First National bearing our firm’s name.”
“Yes.”
Her voice was controlled.
“We did not issue them.”
I looked at Rebecca.
Patricia continued.
“And Ms. Ross, Chloe Bennett was not promoted yesterday.”
Silence.
“What?”
“She was placed on administrative leave Friday morning.”
May you like
The dinner had been celebrating a promotion that did not exist.
And nobody at Brenda’s table except me seemed surprised.
