Billionaire Bachelors 10 ; Holiday Treasure(2)

"Your Honor," Tanner's attorney broke in, "Mr. Storm has been trying to get the building condemned since he took ownership six months ago. If the tenants would take his incredibly generous offer to vacate, they could relocate to a much safer environment for their families, and he could tear the building down and start the project he has made plans for already."

"Mr. Henry, sit down," the judge said. "I've read through the files - I'm not blind. Mr. Storm has made it more than clear that he looks down his nose at this building, which he seemed to receive as a consolation prize in some family game of inheritances and trust funds. Don't insult my intelligence by telling me that Mr. Storm has these people's best interests at heart. The complex that he plans to build wouldn't be even marginally affordable to the current tenants, who are struggling to make ends meet without having the added pressure of moving." Judge Kragle's voice was quiet but stern, especially when he wanted to emphasize any of his remarks.

Tanner's first attorney obediently sat down, but another one rose in his place.

"You may not like our client, Your Honor, but he's well within his legal rights," said this attorney, a well-known shark, his demeanor confident, his suit costing more than most people paid for a car.




 

 

"No, Mr. Silt, he most certainly is not obeying the law. If you've managed to forget, the jury has already rendered its verdict, and not in your client's favor. We are now in the sentencing phase - remember that? - and I've made my decision. Tanner Storm, please rise," the judge said, a smile of pure satisfaction on his face that made Tanner more than a bit nervous, and nerves weren't usually part of his psychic makeup. "It seems that you haven't learned from your previous experiences standing before me, so I've decided to try a different penalty. You'll spend three days in jail, beginning immediately after I've finished here."

There was a murmur in the courtroom, everyone shocked that Judge Kragle would dare send Tanner Storm, the son of a billionaire, to jail. Tanner just smiled. He'd be out in six hours, max. He had nothing to worry about.

"After your jail sentence, you'll be under house arrest in the same building your tenants are living in. You will live there for twenty-four days, starting the first day of December, and ending on Christmas Day, December Twenty-Fifth."

The judge paused, and Tanner's eyes widened in shock. He felt his first stirrings of real unease. There was no way that he could stay in that building for such an extended time. It didn't even have Internet access. How was he supposed to get anything done?

"Furthermore, you aren't allowed to do any updates, additions, construction, repairs, or alterations on your own apartment that you don't provide for the rest of the building first," the judge continued. "If you want to bring the comforts of home to the complex, be my guest, but your unit will be the last to be worked on. The conditions of the building are appalling, and it would do you some good to learn a bit of humility. Your father is a good man, a man who is obviously trying to teach you much needed respect for those around you. He has served this community well since moving here, and he has given you this opportunity in the hopes that you will do the right thing."

"But-" Tanner was getting desperate.

"I'm not finished! You will also be required to serve one hundred and twenty hours of community service during your time."

"I can't serve all those hours and still do my job," Tanner burst out, fury overcoming his usual discretion.

"I guess you'll have to take time off from work, Mr. Storm. You will serve every single hour or I'll impose the full sentence allowed by law - five years in a state prison."

Judge Kragle sat back and looked Tanner in the eye. Tanner attempted to exude confidence, but the set of his incredibly high-priced attorneys' shoulders told him more than anything that he just wasn't getting out of this. 

"Do I need to scrub some graffiti off ghetto walls?" Tanner made no attempt to hide his sarcasm. He had donated astronomical amounts of money to charity in his life; his time, however, was priceless, and he wasn't happy about having to share it - to waste it, probably.

"No, Mr. Storm. You'll be volunteering as Santa Claus this season."

Tanner stared back in horror as the judge banged his gavel and the courtroom erupted. Reporters tried in vain to get a statement from him as - the grossest indignity of all - he was handcuffed and led away through a back door.

Merry freaking Christmas to him!


Chapter Two

Tanner ground his teeth while he packed a bag. Nope. Wouldn't need his hand-tailored suits. Nope. Wouldn't need his Rolex. Nope. Wouldn't need anything he had in his penthouse on top of a luxury high-rise in downtown Seattle.