HOA Karen’s Son Tried to Steal My Harley — Then Called the Cops to Threaten Me, Not Knowing Who I Am

HOA Karen’s Son Tried to Steal My Harley — Then Called the Cops to Threaten Me, Not Knowing Who I Am

Chapter 22

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"All those in favor, raise your hands," Gregory commanded the room. 

Thirty-eight hands shot into the air instantly. Only four remained down in the supporter rows, their expressions entirely uncertain.

"The motion carries unanimously by the present quorum," Gregory declared, looking directly at the former treasurer. "Deandra, you are officially removed from your position on this board, effective immediately."

She stood frozen at the table, the legal documents trembling in her grip. Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again, but the microphone was dead. Finally, she snatched up her leather purse, knocking her metal chair over with a loud clatter that made the front row flinch.

"You'll regret this," she whispered, her voice cracking on the last syllable as she looked around the room. "All of you."

She stormed down the center aisle toward the exit doors. As she reached my row, she stopped inches from my face, her breath hot. "This isn't over, Trudeau," she whispered.

I leaned in slightly, keeping my expression cold. "Yes, it is, Deandra. And you did it entirely to yourself."

She threw open the double doors, and the heavy wood slammed shut behind her hard enough to rattle the frame, the sound echoing off the linoleum walls like a gunshot.

---

Nobody in the hall moved for a full two seconds. Then, Mrs. Kowalski started clapping from her wheelchair. The Brunellis joined in, and within seconds, the entire room was on its feet. A standing ovation shook the walls of the community center, the sound rolling through the rafters like thunder. I didn't smile, and I didn't celebrate; I simply nodded once to the room and returned to my seat.

Through the wide glass windows, we watched Deandra's Audi Q5 peel out of the concrete lot, her tires squealing loudly as she left thick black marks across the asphalt she used to patrol like her personal kingdom. Sloan's videographer caught the entire exit on tape, and she gave me a subtle thumbs-up from the back row.

Gregory Matsuno approached my table, extending his hand firmly. "Thank you, Garrett. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I should have found the courage to do this three years ago."

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HOA Karen’s Son Tried to Steal My Harley — Then Called the Cops to Threaten Me, Not Knowing Who I Am

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