Chapter 4 - The House of Cards Collapses
By nightfall, the von Berg name—a name that had carried considerable weight in Frankfurt’s corporate and social circles for three generations—was being dragged through the digital mud of every major news outlet in Germany.
Gabriel von Berg, Gero’s formidable, domineering father, arrived at the central precinct at 8:30 PM with two high-priced corporate defense attorneys trailing behind him like protective hounds.
Gabriel swept into the chief inspector’s office with a face like thunder, his expensive silk tie slightly crooked, his eyes blazing with furious entitlement.
“This is an outrage!” Gabriel bellowed, slamming his palm onto the desk of the precinct captain. “My son is a pillar of the community! He runs a multi-million-dollar medical supply distributorship! Some hysterical, hormonal pregnant woman makes up a fairy tale about falling down stairs, and you slap cuffs on a von Berg?! I want him released immediately, or I’ll have every badge in this room stripped by sunrise!”
The captain didn't flinch. He slowly swivelled his computer monitor around so the screen faced the patriarch of the von Berg family.
“Before you threaten my department, Mr. von Berg,” the captain said smoothly, his voice icy, “I suggest you watch Exhibit A.”
On the screen, the high-definition nursery camera footage began to play.
The audio filled the small, sterile office with sickening clarity: the sharp snap of leather cutting through the air, my muffled cries, the rhythmic, merciless count of fifty strikes, and Gero’s calm, chilling voice checking his watch afterward to make a dinner call.
Gabriel von Berg stopped talking.
The color drained from his face so fast it looked as though someone had pulled a plug underneath his skin. He stood frozen, staring at the screen where his son—the golden boy of the family empire—was captured on camera acting like a sadistic torturer.
“That... that’s fabricated,” one of the defense attorneys stammered, adjusting his glasses nervously. “Digital manipulation! Deepfake technology! It’s inadmissible!”
“It’s verified by three independent federal digital forensics experts, backed up by cloud redundancy servers, and corroborated by Dr. Patrizia Richter’s medical report detailing fifty distinct subcutaneous bruising patterns matching the exact width of Gero von Berg’s custom calfskin belt,” a new voice spoke from the doorway.
My father stepped into the captain’s office.
He wasn't wearing his trench coat anymore. He wore a crisp, tailored navy blazer, his posture straight as a ramrod, his eyes fixed entirely on Gabriel von Berg.
“Thomas,” Gabriel whispered, his voice losing all its bluster, turning into a raspy, defensive croak. “Thomas, let’s... let’s be reasonable. We’re civilized men. Families have disputes. We can settle this privately, out of court. A generous financial settlement for Beate, a quiet divorce, a clean break—”
“A clean break?” Papa interrupted, taking two measured steps toward the corporate titan until they were standing toe-to-toe. “Your son beat a pregnant woman fifty times because dinner was fifteen minutes late. He didn't just break my daughter’s bones; he tried to destroy her soul.”
Papa leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper.
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“There is no settlement. There is no quiet exit. Your son is going to maximum-security remand, and my legal team is filing an emergency corporate receivership audit to freeze every single asset tied to von Berg Medical Supplies. Every account, every shell corporation, every offshore holding you’ve used to hide your bribes for the last decade—we’re exposing all of it.”
Gabriel staggered backward, his shoulder hitting the wall. The untouchable dynasty was crumbling, and there wasn't a single lawyer in Europe capable of stopping the avalanche.
