Hargreaves took a measured breath before he began.

"Drew Mercer’s father, Richard Mercer, holds the position of Regional Director at WhiteCrest Realty. That part you already knew. What the investigation has surfaced is that WhiteCrest Realty is not simply a real estate firm."

Steven said nothing but he could already guess where this was going. He walked toward the sofa and sat down slowly.

"The company has been operating as a laundering vehicle for a cartel with operations running across the Texas-Mexico corridor for at least the past twelve years," Hargreaves continued. "Properties are acquired and sold at inflated valuations. The excess capital moves through a network of subsidiaries — shell companies with no visible connection to WhiteCrest, held under names that don’t appear in any public record. The money goes in dirty and comes out looking like legitimate real estate revenue."

"Which cartel?" Steven asked.

"The investigation team has identified links to the Vega organisation," Hargreaves said. "They operate primarily out of Tamaulipas. Significant presence in Texas, particularly in the border corridor and in Houston’s commercial real estate sector. They’ve been active for over two decades and they don’t, by any measure, run a minor operation."

Steven’s jaw tightened slightly. He set his elbow on his knee and pressed his thumb against his lower lip, thinking.

"And Richard Mercer," he said. "Is he a willing participant or a man who got in over his head?"

"Willing," Hargreaves said, without hesitation. "The transaction history suggests he built the structure himself. This wasn’t something imposed on him from the outside. He identified the opportunity, approached the right people, and constructed the vehicle. The investigation team’s read is that he’s been a trusted partner to the Vega organisation for over a decade. That level of trust isn’t given to someone who was coerced."

Steven sat with the information Hargreaves had given him for a moment.

Drew’s father being a willing partner of a a cartel with two decades of operations and one that has a presence deep enough in Houston’s real estate sector that a company worth tens of millions had been running their money through it without significant disruption, was something he had never expected. And it raised the stakes significantly for him.

The picture that assembled itself in his mind was considerably different from the one he had been working from.

He had come into this situation thinking of Drew as a man with a bruised ego and his father’s influence behind him. Corporate protection. The kind that could suppress an HR complaint or smooth over a public incident. The kind that operated through phone calls and professional relationships and the application of money in the right directions.

That version of the situation had been manageable.

What Hargreaves had just described was something entirely different. Drew had grown up inside the protection of an organisation that didn’t resolve problems through HR departments or corporate relationships. An organisation that had its own methods, its own reach, and a twelve-year track record of operating in Houston without consequence.

That explained everything. The speed. The confidence. The private investigator, the men in the cars, the envelope handed over on a public road in broad daylight without any apparent concern about who might see it.

Drew had never once had reason to believe that the rules applied to him the same way they applied to everyone else. Because for his entire life, they hadn’t.

"How large is WhiteCrest?" Steven asked.

"The company’s reported assets sit just above ninety million dollars," Hargreaves said. "The actual figure, including assets held through subsidiaries, is considerably higher. The investigation team’s working estimate is somewhere between two hundred and two hundred and fifty million, though that will require more time to confirm precisely."

"A company worth two hundred and fifty million dollars," Steven said quietly, almost to himself.

"Running cartel money through residential and commercial property transactions across Houston," Hargreaves confirmed. "The operation is large enough that it required cooperation at multiple levels. Legal, financial, and almost certainly within local law enforcement and city government. A structure of that size and longevity doesn’t survive twelve years on concealment alone. It survives because the right people have been given reason to look the other way."

Steven stood from the sofa and walked toward the window. He looked down at the city below, the streets, the lights, the quiet residential stretch of River Oaks pressing outward from where he stood.

"So when Drew moves against me," he said, "the protection behind him isn’t just his father’s position at a real estate company."

"No," Hargreaves said. "It potentially extends to people whose cooperation was purchased at scale, over a long period, with cartel money. That changes the risk profile of your situation materially. I want to be direct with you about that."

"I appreciate the directness," Steven said.

He remained at the window for a moment, looking at nothing in particular. A plane moved across the dark sky in the distance, its navigation light blinking at steady intervals. Below, a car turned slowly off the main road into the residential stretch and disappeared behind the treeline.

"Hargreaves," he said.

"Yes."

"When the investigation is complete," Steven said, "I want everything documented to an evidentiary standard. The transactions, the subsidiaries, the timeline, the connections to the Vega organisation, the cooperation at the institutional level." He paused. "All of it prepared for the appropriate federal authorities."

The silence that followed lasted perhaps three seconds, as Hargreaves processed the fact that the conversation had progressed to another level.

"Federal," Hargreaves repeated.

"Local law enforcement may be compromised," Steven said. "I’m not going to hand documentation of this to an institution that has reason to make it disappear and also come after me. Federal jurisdiction removes that variable." 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

There was a brief silence between the two of them.

"Understood," Hargreaves said. "The team will document everything with federal evidentiary standards in mind from this point forward. Chain of evidence, source verification, the full standard." Hargreaves said and paused for a moment. "I want you to know — this is not a small thing you’re asking for. Dismantling a structure of this size, with these connections, will take time and it will require the right people on the receiving end to act on it."

"I know," Steven said. "I’m not in a hurry. I just want it done properly."

"Then it will be done properly," Hargreaves said.

"The security consultation is still confirmed for nine tomorrow morning," Hargreaves said. "LTC paperwork initiated before midnight. I’ll send confirmations of both before I sleep." He paused. "And the investigation continues. You’ll have the complete picture as soon as it exists."

"Thank you, Hargreaves. I really appreciate everything you’re doing," Steven said.

"Take care of yourself this evening, Mr. Craig," Hargreaves said, with concern and warmth in his voice.

The call ended.

Steven stood at the window for a long moment with the phone in his hand.

He thought about the call and how everything has changed. He thought of how dangerous things might be from now on but he wasn’t too worried about himself.

But he was worried for Lena. He wanted to call her immediately to tell her of what he found out and warn her, but he felt that it would make too worried and keep her up at night.

He knew that nothing would happen to Lena, as Drew won’t dare to go after her since he will be the primary suspect.

But the same can’t be said for him.

Steven sighed softly, thinking of how things had escalated from a little unpleasant encounter on rooftop lounge to now being involved with a cartel.

"It is what it is," he smiled.