👉 Previous Decision: The court and LAPD launched an immediate review of the estate documents.
The legal filings worked. Within seventy-two hours, the LA Superior Court issued a directive for an immediate review of Beatrice Delacroix’s estate, citing “new and compelling evidence.” Simultaneously, Detective Robert Ruiz of the LAPD Financial Crimes Unit opened a full investigation.
The next morning, the confrontation occurred not in a courtroom, but in the glaring lights of a Paramount Pictures soundstage. Marcus Kincaid was hosting a live press walkthrough for his new sci-fi epic, surrounded by cameras, reporters, and studio executives. He was in his element, holding court, gesturing expansively at a colossal spaceship set.
“This is the future of storytelling!” Marcus boomed, a confident smile plastered on his face. “A testament to vision, to ambition…”
Just then, Detective Robert Ruiz, a man of average height with a serious demeanor and a dark suit, stepped purposefully onto the soundstage. He wasn’t in uniform, but his presence commanded attention. Two other plainclothes officers followed a few steps behind him.
A publicist quickly tried to intervene. “Excuse me, sir, this is a closed event.”
Detective Ruiz ignored her. He walked directly up to Marcus, who was mid-sentence, still beaming for the cameras.
“Mr. Kincaid,” Detective Ruiz said, his voice clear and cutting through the buzz of the crowd. “Detective Ruiz, LAPD Financial Crimes. We have a few questions regarding the probate of the Beatrice Delacroix estate and certain expired option contracts.”
Marcus’s confident smile instantly dissolved. His eyes, fixed on the detective, darted left and right. The studio executives beside him shifted uncomfortably. The camera crews, sensing a dramatic turn, zoomed in.
“Expired… contracts?” Marcus stammered, his booming voice shrinking to a croak. “I’m not aware of any… expired contracts. These are all valid.”
“And concerning alleged coercion related to County Probate Examiner Harold Hobbs,” Ruiz continued, his tone unwavering.
Marcus’s face went pale. He clenched his jaw, swallowing hard. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, a visible struggle for words.
“This is… a misunderstanding,” Marcus mumbled, pulling at his collar. “Unfounded accusations. My lawyers are handling this.”
He began to back away, his practiced composure completely shattered. Reporters started shouting questions, holding microphones toward him.
“Mr. Kincaid, are you being investigated for fraud?”
“What about Examiner Hobbs?”
“Is your Delacroix deal fraudulent?”
Marcus offered no coherent response. He stumbled backward, turning his back on the cameras, and practically ran off the soundstage through a hastily opened side door, his publicist scrambling after him. The awkward, undeniable retreat was captured by every camera present.
The media scrum erupted, shifting its focus from the sci-fi set to the dramatic, public unraveling of Hollywood’s latest power player.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 10A to continue the story
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