After My Wife Passed, I Gave My Son Power Of Attorney Because I Trusted Him With Everything. I Just Found Out He’s Been Draining Tens Of Thousands Every Month For His Secret Gambling Debts. Tonight, I Caught Him Sneaking Into My Office To Photograph My Final Will.

The Confrontation Plan

I left the bank without making the transfer. The teller, her name was Jennifer Chen, had made me promise to call Adult Protective Services immediately. She’d also given me the name of an attorney who specialized in elder financial abuse.

“Elder abuse,” I’d said, almost angry. “I’m not some confused old man being scammed by strangers.”

“No, sir,” she’d replied gently. “You’re a man being betrayed by someone you trusted. That’s worse. And it’s more common than you think.”

I drove home in a daze. When I pulled into my driveway, I saw Marcus’s Tesla parked near the guest house. The guest house I owned. On the property I owned. Or thought I owned.

I sat in my car and called the attorney Jennifer had recommended. Sarah Goldstein answered on the second ring. I told her everything.

When I finished, there was a long pause.

“Mr. Patterson, I need you to listen carefully. Don’t confront your son. Not yet. Don’t let him know you’ve discovered anything. Can you do that?”

“I… I don’t know. He’s inside right now. He’s probably wondering where I am.”

“Tell him the bank needed additional documentation for the transfer. Tell him it’ll be processed tomorrow. Can you act normal for 24 hours?”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to file an emergency petition with the court tomorrow morning to freeze your accounts and revoke that power of attorney. But I need time to prepare the paperwork, and I need you to not tip him off. If he suspects you know, he could transfer everything out tonight.”

My hands were shaking on the steering wheel.

“There’s more money he could take. Your house, Mr. Patterson. With power of attorney, he could potentially deed your house to himself. Has he mentioned anything about updating your will? Putting the house in a trust?”

He had. Just last week. Said it would save on estate taxes.

“Oh God,” I breathed.

“Tomorrow morning, 9:00 a.m., my office. Bring any documents you have. In the meantime, act like nothing has changed. Can you do that?”

I said yes, but I honestly didn’t know if I could.

I walked into my house and Marcus was in the kitchen making coffee.

“Hey Dad, how’d it go?” he asked, not even looking up from his phone.

“They needed some additional verification,” I heard myself say. My voice sounded normal. How was that possible? “Said they’d process it tomorrow.”

“Annoying,” Marcus muttered. “But whatever. This deal won’t wait long though. My contact said if we don’t move by Friday he’s going with other investors.”

His contact. His deal. My money.

“Marcus,” I said, and he finally looked up at me. “This investment… tell me more about it. What exactly am I investing in?”

For just a second, something flickered across his face. Irritation? Guilt? But then he smiled. That easy smile that had always made him look like Catherine.

“It’s a tech startup, Dad. Cryptocurrency mining operation. The returns are insane, 12 to 15% monthly. I told you about it. And this… this is legitimate, Dad. Would I put your money into something shady? Come on, you know me.”

I thought I did. I really thought I did.

The Betrayal at 2:00 A.M.

That night I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the house settle around me. At some point around 2:00 a.m., I heard Marcus’s door open. Heard him walk through the house.

I got up quietly, stood in my darkened bedroom doorway. He was in my study. At my desk. Going through my files.

I watched my son search through my personal documents, photographing pages with his phone. When he pulled out the folder containing my updated will—the one Catherine and I had revised just before she got sick—my chest tightened so hard I thought I was having a heart attack.

He studied it for a long time. Then he put it back, but not quite where it had been. He’d be able to tell if I’d noticed.

After he went back to the guest house, I sat in my study for an hour. That will left everything to Marcus. Catherine and I had been so clear about it. We had one child, one heir. Why would we leave it to anyone else? We’d never imagined we’d need to.

At 8:50 a.m., I was sitting in Sarah Goldstein’s office. She was younger than I’d expected, maybe 45, with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.

“Before we start,” she said, “I need to tell you something. This is going to be ugly. Even if we win, even if we recover your money, your relationship with your son will never be the same. Are you prepared for that?”

I thought about Marcus at 2:00 a.m. photographing my will.

“He already destroyed our relationship,” I said. “I just didn’t know it.”

She nodded and opened her briefcase.

“Let’s begin.”

The next four hours were a blur of paperwork. Sarah explained that she was filing for an emergency temporary restraining order to freeze all my accounts and revoke Marcus’ power of attorney. She was also filing a report with Adult Protective Services and the District Attorney’s office.

“This is criminal, Mr. Patterson. What he’s done is elder financial abuse. Possibly fraud, possibly forgery if any signatures were faked. The DA will investigate, but that takes time. Our job is to freeze everything now and get your money back.”

“What do I tell Marcus?”

“Nothing yet. The court will serve him with the restraining order this afternoon. Be somewhere else when that happens. Do you have somewhere you can go?”

I nodded. My old friend Tom from my Boeing days. He’d been asking me to visit for months.

“Good. Pack a bag. Tell Marcus you’re going to visit a friend for a few days. Don’t tell him which friend. And Mr. Patterson…” she looked at me seriously. “Change your locks while you’re gone. We’re including in the petition that he must vacate your property immediately.”

Vacate. My son. From my property.