They Called the Cops Over My Apple Monitor, So I Took Back My Billion-Dollar Patent Chapter 2

Saturday, 9:00 AM.

Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on the Persian rug in my living room.

Compared to the formaldehyde-scented, backstabbing cubicles of my former employer, the air here felt incredibly free.

Buzz—Buzz—

My phone vibrated aggressively. An unfamiliar local landline number flashed on the screen.

I swiped to answer.

"Hello, is this Ethan Hayes?" A stern male voice came through the receiver. In the background, I could hear the clatter of keyboards and chaotic chatter.

"Speaking."

"This is the local police precinct. We received a report from your former employer claiming you are suspected of corporate embezzlement and the illegal misappropriation of high-value company assets. We need you to bring the item in question to the precinct immediately for an investigation."

The officer's tone was strictly business, entirely devoid of emotion.

I picked up my coffee and took a sip. The bitter liquid slid down my throat, making my mind instantly razor-sharp.

They actually called the cops?

I originally thought Brad's greed and ignorance were just loud barking, and that Manager Davis's corporate posturing was just a way to flex his authority in front of the team.

But I had underestimated the sheer insanity of low-level opportunists. To claim something that wasn't theirs, they were willing to easily cross legal boundaries.

"Understood, Officer. I'll be right there."

I walked into my walk-in closet and changed into a perfectly tailored, dark gray suit.

Then, I opened my safe and pulled out a manila envelope.

Inside was the complete set of purchase records for the monitor, the shipping invoices, and a printed copy of the "Declaration of Personal Work Equipment" email I had sent to HR on my first week.

I grabbed the heavy aluminum flight case and headed down to the underground garage.

"Attorney Sterling," I said as the Bluetooth connected in my car.

"Good morning, Ethan. What can I do for you?" Robert Sterling’s voice was as steady and professional as always.

"I'm heading to the local precinct. My former employer just reported me for corporate embezzlement."

I watched the red light countdown at the intersection, my tone completely flat.

There was a second of silence on the other end, followed by a light chuckle. "That has to be a joke. Do you need me to come down there?"

"Not yet. Using a sledgehammer to crack a nut," I said, tapping my fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. "But I need you to draft two documents. First, a cease and desist and a defamation lawsuit against an individual named Brad Miller. The second..."

I paused, my eyes turning ice-cold.

"Draft a legal notice to revoke a patent license. Yes, the core image-rendering algorithm they are currently using for their flagship project. I licensed it to them for free back then to speed up the development timeline. Now that I've resigned, that authorization is officially revoked."

"Understood. I'll have them in your inbox in thirty minutes."

I hung up. The light turned green.

The Porsche Panamera let out a low, guttural roar, shooting forward like a waking black panther toward the police station.