All language subtitles for I.Care.a.Lot.2020.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL

Look at you, sitting there.

You think you're good people.

You're not good people.

Trust me, there's no
such thing as good people.

I used to be like you...

thinking that working hard
and playing fair

would lead to success
and happiness.

It doesn't.

Playing fair is a joke
invented by rich people

to keep the rest of us poor.

And I've been poor.

It doesn't agree with me.

'Cause there's two types
of people in this world:

the people who take...

and those getting took.

Predators and prey.

Lions and lambs.

My name is Marla Grayson,
and I'm not a lamb.

I am a fucking lioness.

She's my mother.
I should be able to see her
whenever I want.

She doesn't need
to be in a care facility.

She doesn't need
a court-appointed guardian.

She has a loving son
to take care of her.

I don't understand
how the court

can entrust my mother
to this stranger.

Miss Grayson forced my mother
into the home

when she made it very clear
that she didn't wanna go.

And now she has auctioned off
my mother's house, her car,

her personal belongings.

And she uses the proceeds
to pay herself.

And now Miss Grayson
has barred me from
seeing my mother at all.

It's a goddamn nightmare.
She has kidnapped my mother!

Please, sir, calm down.

Marla Grayson
is a well-respected
professional guardian

and has been appointed
by this court, by me,

to look after the best interests
of your mother now that she
cannot look after herself.

How is it in my mother's
best interest to have her son
barred from seeing her?

Miss Grayson doesn't care
about my mother at all.

Excuse me, Your Honor.
May I speak?

Go ahead, Miss Grayson.

Mr. Feldstrom, sir,
I sympathize.

But the court doesn't
appoint me for no reason.

Your mother couldn't cope
on her own.

- That is not true.
- A doctor diagnosed her
with dementia

and wrote an affidavit
recommending immediate action
be taken for her safety.

You had ample opportunity
to move your mother
into a care facility

or into your home.

You did neither.

She didn't want to
leave her home.

She begged me not to...

You can't care for her
by doing what she wants.

You have to do
what she needs.

And that is why
I can care better
than a family member,

because I have
no skin in the game.

I just do what is right
for your mother.

I manage your mother's money
because someone has to.

She'd let it run
into quite a mess.

And I have to pay for
her care in the facility,

so, yes, I oversaw the sale

of some of her assets
to finance that.

And, yes, I pay myself too.

Because caring, sir,
is my job, it's my profession.

This is what I do.
All day, every day, I care.

I care for those who are
in need of protection,

protection from apathy,
protection from their own pride

and, quite often, protection
from their own children.

- Hey! No!
- Your Honor, you and I
have seen it many times,

offspring who are willing
to let their parents starve
in squalor

and struggle with pain

rather than dip
into what they see
as their inheritance

to pay for the necessary care.

Mr. Feldstrom, sir...

I sympathize, I do,

but your visits
to your mother upset her,

and the last time
you visited her,

you assaulted a staff member
and vandalized a reception area.

Is that not true?

Well...

Your Honor,
I think it's obvious

why the non-visitation order
must be upheld.

This court is doing its best
to protect and help
Mrs. Feldstrom,

and the actions of her son

are undermining
our every effort in that fight.

I agree. Order upheld.

What? No.

- You won?
- I did.

I knew you would.

Hey! Bitch!

You! Bitch!

I think he's talking to you.

- Then he can use my name.
- Bitch. Hey.

I don't know
how you live with yourself.
Our lives are being ruined.

I'm just doing my job.

Your fucking job?

- Fuck you!
- Hey.

I hope you get raped
and murdered,

and I hope you get killed.

You fucking... fucker.

Oh! Fuck, no, motherfucker!
I'll fucking get...

Does it sting more
because I'm a woman?

That you got
so soundly beaten in there
by someone with a vagina?

Having a penis doesn't
automatically make you
more scary to me,

just the opposite.

You may be a man,

but if you ever threaten,
touch or spit on me again...

I will grab
your dick and balls

and I will rip them clean off,
you understand?

I'll tell your mom
you send your best.

Thanks.

Curtis.

Hey. Good going.

Hi, boss.
Congrats on the win.

Thanks, Addie.
So, what time is it now?

It's 2:17. That's...

Door to door,
that's just over five hours.
Round it to six.

Charge it to
the Feldstrom account,
full rate.

Okay. Oh. Sam Rice called.

- Asked that you return.
- I'll take it inside.

Fran, call the Realtor.

Check progress
on the Bather property.

The savings account
is nearly empty.

It won't cover
the facility bill
after this month.

Got ya.

Sam's on.
- Sam. How are you?

Hey. I'm good, Marla.
How about you?

Oh, working hard, playing hard.

- Fucking A.
- You called.

Yeah, uh, I got some news.

Good news or bad news?

Uh, sort of both.

Your ward, Alan Levitt,
here at our Berkshire Oaks
facility,

he just died.

- What?
- Alan died.

This morning. Sorry.

No. Alan Levitt? Really?

- How?
- Stroke, big one.

- But he was young.
- Just 69 and a quarter.

Oh, God.

Alan.
Fuck. I only had him six months.

I thought he'd last us
at least another five years.

Fuck, now I have to
cash him out,

turn over everything
to his inheritors.
What a fucking waste.

Maybe he took a shine to you
and wrote you into his will.

- Yeah, right.
-

So, what's the good news?

Well, due to
Alan's tragic departure,

we now have a vacancy.

His room. Huh.
That's a corner deluxe.

- Yes, it is.
- Hold it for me.

Marla, you're not
the only game in town.
There's a waiting list.

Fuck the waiting list.
How much?

Two grand a week
till it's filled.

Two grand?
It cost 500 last time.

If you don't pay,
someone else will.

Oh, fuck you, Sam.
All right, two grand.

- Thanks, Sam.
- Pleasure, Marla.

What?

You know.

Keep your eyes on the road.

Walk into a room
Everybody turn

Hi, Petra.
Dr. Karen's expecting me.

Uh-huh.

Hand in hand
Till it was almost dark

Alan Levitt? Fuck.

Sorry. I thought he had legs.

I know. So, now we're
in the market for a new client.

Got anyone for us?

There's a few I wouldn't mind
getting off my books.

You know, the real
high-maintenance assholes.

But there is actually someone
I have been meaning to
talk to you about.

I've been feeling her out,
and I think she...

- I think she might be...
- No.

- I don't even wanna say it.
- A cherry?

Yes. Maybe. I think so.

Don't tease me.
Give me the details.

Come on, Marl.
I can't just give you
a cherry for free.

I need something in return.

You hold stock in
Golden Light Care Homes, right?

Yeah, we have a chunk.

- Sign some over to me.
-

Come on. I'm helping you
feed the money monster,

but I hardly see
any of the gold for myself.

Give me a taste.

Done.

But it has to be
a real cherry, bona fide.

- Jennifer Peterson.
- She's in reasonably
good health.

But recently she has shown
some signs of memory loss
and confusion.

- Significant?
- No.

We can tickle that to make
an emergency hearing go our way.

She has no kids, no husband,

no living family.

- No family at all?
- She has very good insurance.

She told me she used to
work in finance in Chicago
and moved here to retire.

Can I get a copy of this?

You bet,
all except her test results.

That wouldn't be ethical.

Of course.

Jennifer Peterson.
Born April 15th, 1949.

She lives at 41 Williams Street
in Shallcross.

It's a real nice neighborhood,
expensive.

She bought the house
seven years ago,
owns it outright.

Credit check came back A1,
totally clean.

No debt, no criminal record,
never been married.

She worked at the same company
for 40 years.

Looks like she downsized
when she retired, liquidated,

and now she's sitting
on a nest egg.

Like a golden fucking goose.
Look at this.

From her tax records,
it says that she has
three separate saving accounts,

all earning monster interest.

She likes to go
during the day
to the movies.

She reads a lot,
likes gardening.

Just your regular old lady.

- And she is sitting
on a pile of cash.
- Mm-hmm.

She's rich, independent,
literate.

That lady right there,
she's my fucking hero.

Karen. It's Marla.

Pull the trigger
on Jennifer Peterson.

You'll get the stock
you want.

Miss Peterson
is often confused

and has exhibited
memory and coping issues.

Her mobility is compromised.

She cannot take
adequate care of herself,

and I believe she is
at high risk if left alone
in her own home.

She has no family?

She has no one to care for her,
except us.

That's terrible. Poor woman.

Okay, Miss Grayson.

Do you think
you can take her on
as one of your wards?

I know you have a lot
in your fold already.

Um...

Yes, Your Honor, I...

If you need me
to take care of her,

I can take care of her.

Thank you, Marla.

Miss Peterson?
My name is Marla Grayson.

I work with Dr. Karen Amos,
your physician.

May I speak with you
for a minute?

Good morning, Miss Peterson.
I'm sorry to disturb you
so early.

- You're a doctor?
- No, ma'am.

May I show you this?

Oh, I'm gonna need
my reading glasses.
I'll be right back.

You know,
I'm not sure what this is.

- It's a court order, ma'am.
- A court order?

But what's that
got to do with me?

That's your name, correct?
Jennifer Peterson.

Your date of birth,
social security number
and this address.

Oh, my goodness.
Have I done something wrong?

Oh, no, ma'am.
This is to help you.

The court has ruled,
under the guidance
of your doctor,

that you require assistance
in taking care of yourself.

The court has appointed me
to be your legal guardian.

What?

When we cease to be able
to take care of ourselves,

the state steps in to help.

We can't just sit by
while people struggle.

Yeah, but I'm not struggling.

I'm fine. I'm more than fine.
I don't need help.

I'm afraid it's not
up to you or me to decide.

The court has ruled
that you do need help and,
as your legal guardian,

it's my duty to ensure that
adequate care is supplied
to you at all times.

Let me tell you something.
I never went to court.

This is the first thing
I've heard about court.

In emergencies,
the court can convene

without the presence
of the prospective ward.

Wow. That's crazy.

Well, ma'am...

You have to come with me.

- I'm not going anywhere.
- This is a court order.

And if you don't comply with it,
I'm afraid you may be
in some trouble.

Oh, my God.

If you feel
there's been an error,

report it to the court,
request a hearing.

But, for now,

I suggest you come with me
temporarily

to the care facility
I've found for you,

and if there's been a mistake,
we can address it from there.

This is Frances.
She will help you
pack a suitcase.

Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.
Pleasure to meet you.

- I don't believe
this is happening.
- It's totally fine.

- Don't touch me.
- I'm sorry. I'll help you.

Don't touch me.

Beautiful house, Mrs. Peterson.

Let me help you with those.

I'll be overseeing
the upkeep of your property
until you sort this out.

Let's go.
We just wanna make sure

that your property's
taken care of safely.

Thanks, Curtis. Seat belt.

Marla, how's it going?
You have to drag her out
by her ankles?

No, she packed and walked.
Hardly any of them fight.

They see the official paper,
they see the cops,
they go right along.

- Yeah, I'd fucking fight.
- You say that,

but at heart
most of us are weak,
compliant and scared.

True. Hey, you ever hear
about the Milgram experiment?

Not now, Sam.
We're already in transit.

All right.
- Oh, Sam.

I need the full works
for this one.

Copy that.

Welcome home.

Come on in.

- Wow.
-

- I'd forgotten
how big they are.
- Yes.

Why don't you take a seat?

So you feel at home.

They have all
your medical details,
all your prescriptions.

You don't have to worry.
They'll take care of all of it.

Now, if you need me
at any time, night or day,
you just ask, okay?

You have a cell phone?

Unlock it.
I'll store my number.

If you need to make a call,
you just ask, okay?

Now, Miss Peterson,
I wanna say I'm honored
to be your guardian.

And remember,
I'm on your side.
I'm here to help.

Sam, you treat this lady
like a queen. You hear me?

- Anything she wants.
- Absolutely.

You take care, Miss Peterson.
We'll talk soon.

Can you open the door?
I just wanna get some air.

- You gotta go that way.
- I just wanna get some air.

Could you open the door
so I can get some air?

- You gotta go back
that way.
- Huh?

- Sorry?
- I just need
to get you back...

Hey, can you grab those?

Thank you, sir.
It's been a pleasure.

Sold.

God, I love your ass.

Hi. I wondered
if you could help me, please.

I need my cell phone.
Could you find it for me?

Miss Peterson,
cell phones are kept secure
for the safety of our guests.

- My cell phone won't hurt you.
- Our policy is to get
your guardian involved.

No, no, no, no.
I don't want my guardian.

- Can I speak to the manager?
- Mr. Rice is unavailable.

Mr. Rice is here,
but he's unavailable.

Mr. Rice!

- Calm down.
- Don't touch me.

- Why are you
touching me like this?
- Everything's gonna be fine.

Go away from me. No, no, no,
don't let her do that.

- Calm down.
- Don't let her do that to me.

Nice to see you.

Okay.

Is this the key to one of
your safety deposit boxes?

Taxi for Miss Peterson.

Oh, she doesn't live here
anymore.

What?

She moved.
Miss Peterson moved.

Oh. My mistake. Thank you.

Excuse me. Who called you?

Excuse me!

Fuck.

Sir, he's alone.

So, where is she?

She wasn't at the house.

- You were there on time?
- Yes. Yes, sir.

Mm... No. In seven years,
she's never missed
an appointment.

The house was changed, uh...

It had been, um, cleared out

and there was
a "For Sale" sign out front.

There's people inside.
They were painting walls.

I spoke to a woman
with some swatches

and she said that
she didn't live there anymore.

I don't understand.

What people were in there?
Where is she now?

Oh, I don't know.
I came straight here.

You didn't think to ask?

Even though you know
how important this is to me,

you didn't think to get
some basic information
on the situation?

Sir, if...

Please, sir... Please.

I figured...
I would... Before any...

You fucked up, Alexi.

I love my mother very much.

And these days, these rare days
that we get to spend together,

are a blessing for me.

Yes, sir. Of course.

So, you find her
and bring her to me.

Now.
- Of course. Yes, sir.

And I open the pouch,
and what's inside?

Diamonds. Lots.

- Just loose diamonds?
- Mm-hmm.

This is her insurance
for the safe deposit box.

She lists the gold,
the jewelry, the bonds,

but not the diamonds.

She insures a $600 watch,

but not millions of dollars'
worth of diamonds.

Do you think they're stolen?

Probably.

She doesn't seem that type.

Don't get fooled by old people.

Even sadistic,
immoral assholes get old.

But you're missing the point.
These diamonds
don't officially exist.

So...

no one would ever miss them.

- You wanna steal them.
- No.

I wanna change their location
for a while for safekeeping...

and see what happens.

Yes?

Sorry, sir.
I can come back later if...

Did you find my mother?

Uh...

Sort of.

She's in a care home?

As far as I can tell, sir.
I couldn't get access.

Sir, the latest batch of mules
arrived this morning.

- Did we lose any in transit?
- Three.

We're getting
the product from the others
at the Medfield property.

Is that my smoothie?

I don't understand.

She checked herself
into a care home?

No. Uh, she's there
by court order.

She's now a ward of the state.

Your... Your mother's doctor

deemed her incapable
of taking care of herself.

- But that's bullshit.
-

Yes, sir. Yes.

So how did this happen?

Um...

Marla Grayson.

I believe she made it happen.
She's your mother's guardian.

She now has full control
of your mother's life
and assets.

Fuck!

Call Dean.

Get my mother out of that home
and keep her out.

Do it quietly,

do it legally, do it fast.

Keep me away from it.

Yes, sir.

No, no, no, no.
Leave the photograph.

Marla Grayson?
Pleasure to meet you.

- Dean Ericson.
- He says he has
an appointment.

- He's not in the book.
- I need five minutes
of your time.

It's very important.

You can have two minutes.

This is a beautiful office.
Very stylish.

These all your wards?

What can I do for you,
Mr. Ericson?

That must be
a hell of a responsibility,
all these people.

I imagine the paperwork
is brutal.

Take a seat, get to the point.

- I'm a lawyer.
- I don't need a lawyer.

I represent Jennifer Peterson.

- Really?
- Yes. And I think
there's been a mistake.

You see,
my client is very capable
of taking care of herself.

She has no need for the care
of a guardian like yourself.

Of course, this is
no reflection on you.

I'm sure you're providing
absolutely stellar care
for Miss Peterson.

But the fact of the matter is
she does not need
nor want your care.

She was perfectly fine
on her own.

- She called you?
- What?

Jennifer called you
from the facility?

She did.

Hmm. When did you
last see Jennifer?

- Not long ago.
- How long ago?

- Just a few weeks.
- A few? Two, three, four?

Three, maybe four...
Three. And she was fine,
more than fine.

She was fitter and more focused
than I am most of the time.

I'm afraid
that explains it.

Two weeks ago Jennifer's health
took a severe downwards turn.

She has memory loss
indicative of dementia.

And her doctor
was so worried about her,

she referred her to the courts
for emergency help.

That's simply not true,
Miss Grayson.

You know it, I know it.
If the doctor wrote a note,
he knows it too.

- She.
- What?

She. The doctor,
she's a she.

Of course.

Now, I know what you do here.

I know your game, your hustle.

- You do?
- I do, and honestly,
it's a good one.

You saw an opportunity
and you grabbed it.

Look at all these cash cows
on your wall

just leaking money
into your account
one overpriced hour at a time.

Good for you. I'm not here
to ruin your business.

I'm happy for you
to keep milking these
poor vulnerable people

for as long as you
damn well please.

Hell, if your whole enterprise
isn't the perfect example
of the American dream,

I don't know what is.

But not Jennifer Peterson.
She's off-limits.

And I understand
why you targeted her.

I just responded to a call
from a doctor.

Right, sure,
let's stick with that.
But her doctor is mistaken.

Understand? He...
Sorry, she fucked up.

Jennifer needs to be released
from your care ASAP

and you need to get
that she-doctor
to write another letter

saying Jennifer has made
a full recovery

and no longer needs to be
in the care of a guardian.

Now, why the fuck
would I do that?

Well, I can think
of two reasons.

One, it is
the right thing to do,

but I doubt that means
anything to you.

And two, because she has
very powerful... friends

who can make life
uncomfortable for you,

extremely unpleasant
and uncomfortable.

- Is that a threat?
- No.

No, that's just data
for you to... collate.

How uncomfortable
are we talking?

Uh, you know, aggressively
and excessively uncomfortable

and then eventually, well...

uh...

let's just say
you'll not be comfortable

or uncomfortable ever again.

- Because I'll be dead?
- Well, I didn't say that.

But we all die, right?

Some of us die sooner
in a more horribly protracted
and painful way.

- Who do you work for?
- Jennifer Peterson.

- Liar.
- Excuse me?

Liar. Jennifer did not call you
from the facility.

You think I'm stupid enough
to let new wards anywhere
near a working phone?

And I know from her paperwork
her lawyer is a local guy

who deals in family law.

And that's not you.
You're a shark,

which intrigues me,
and I wanna know who hired you.

- Release her from your care.
- No, Dean.

I don't think I will.

I didn't wanna
have to do this.

It's $150,000 in cash.

Well, that's very pretty.

It's yours
when you release her.

You know what I think, Dean?

I think if your opening gambit
is 150 grand,

then Jennifer Peterson
must be worth a lot more
than that

to whoever it is
who sent you here.

I can go to 250.

How about... five million?

- Three hundred.
- Million?

Thousand. Final offer.

Dean, I have a legal duty.

Jennifer Peterson is in need
of my protection.

How can I just abandon her?

- Are you saying no?
- I'm saying no.

I'm saying, "No, thank you."

In the days to come,

you'll replay this conversation
in your head over and over,

and you're gonna wish
you played it differently.

Right now
look at what you have.

A thriving business,
employees...

a nice face,
unbroken bones,

a life.

When this is through,

you're not gonna have
any of those things.

None of them.

- Last chance.
- Goodbye, Dean.

Curtis will validate
your parking on the way out.

I've looked
all through her records,

all the way back
to her birth certificate.

I can't find anyone in her life
that we should be scared of.

Then who
is this lawyer?

Maybe he knows about
the diamonds.

Yeah, that's my thought too.

Maybe he's cut in on them.
He's scared we'll find them.

Maybe you should just
take the money.

And give away
the biggest opportunity
we ever had?

What if he's saying
the truth?

- With what?
- With threats.

You know how many times
I've been threatened by a man?

Thousands.

You know how many of them
ever came to anything?

Two.

He made threats 'cause threats
are all he had left.

You can't convince a woman
to do what you want,

then you call her a bitch
and threaten to kill her.

I'm not scared of him.

Okay.

So, what are you thinking?

I'm gonna talk to someone
who has all the answers.

How is she?

She's been pretty unsettled
since she got here.

They always are.
- Yeah,
but she's extra extra.

The doctor had to
adjust her medication
to calm her down.

- Twice.
- Hmm.

She's in the games room.
I have to warn you,

we had to bump her sedatives,
so she might be out of it.

Jennifer.

How are you feeling?

- Why do I know you?
- I'm your guardian, Marla.

Oh, thank God. I need help.
I need my cell phone.

- To call who?
- What?

- Who do you need to call?
- Why?

Jennifer, do you know a man
named Dean Ericson?

- Who? What?
- Dean.

Dean Ericson. You know him?

- Dean... No, I don't.
- No?

He says he works for you.
He says he's a lawyer.

Lawyer.

Does he look expensive?

Well... yeah, I guess.

What's the date?

The 15th.

Last week was the 8th.

Right on.

Oh...

You're in trouble now.

- Really? Why?
- Yeah.

- He's coming.
- Who? Dean?

No.

He's coming.

- Who?
- Just you wait.

Jennifer, who are you?

So much drugs.

Drugs. I can't think.

Tell me who you are.

Tell me.

You know I have access
to your safety deposit box?

I know what's in there.

There's an envelope
inside a book.

- Oh.
- Tell me who you are.

Oh, you're a robber.

No, I'm your guardian.

You're my guardian robber.

- Tell me who you are.
- Ooh.

Jennifer. Jennifer.
Tell me.

I'm the worst mistake
you'll ever make.

Tell me.

- Tell me.
- Cell phone.

Tell me.

You don't give me
my cell phone,

you don't let me
get out of this place...

I got nothing to say.

- Listen to me.
- Nothing.

I control your drugs,
your food, your comfort.

- Everything. Me.
-

- Not you, me.
- Yeah.

And I can make things
very bad for you.

You hear me?

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Then have at it,
you little crock of cunt.

Have at it.

Excuse me. Uh...

Marla Grayson, my favorite lady.

Sam, I want you to adjust
Jennifer Peterson's routine.

Shoot.

Take her arthritis
and pain meds down to minimum,

push her physical exercise
to grade four level.

- Marla...
- Give her an upper
at 9:00 at night,

then sedatives in the day.

Put her on
the basic food package.

No solids,
just oatmeal and soup.

No games, no TV

and only 30 minutes a day
out of her room.

Are you sure?

I'm sure as fucking sure.

- Okay.
- Thank you, Sam.

Yeah.

Your Honor, Jennifer Peterson
is being held against her will
in a care facility.

She was put there by this woman
who has falsely asserted

that Jennifer is of ill health
when, in fact,
she's perfectly fine.

Who are you, sir?
I've not seen you
in here before.

Dean Ericson, Your Honor.
These are my associates.

We represent the interests
of Jennifer Peterson,

and I'm here to undo
a miscarriage of justice.

Are you saying I am responsible
for a miscarriage of justice?

Not deliberately, Your Honor.
You were lied to.

My client was not invited

to the original hearing,
and neither was
her representative.

That's perfectly normal
for an emergency hearing.

But there was no emergency
in this case.

It was a fiction
created by Miss Grayson

to keep Jennifer out of sight
and trick the court.

I have an affidavit here
from an ex-employee
from Dr. Amos' practice

who testifies to the fact

that Miss Grayson and Dr. Amos
regularly colluded on cases

to game the system.

I quote: "Karen would palm off
difficult patients to Marla

whether they needed
a guardian or not

and then embellish symptoms
to sway the court."

Your Honor...

this is scandalous.

Judge, may I?

Fiona Jacobs is your witness?

Yes. She's the employee, yes.

Judge, you know
Fiona hates Karen.

She's not an impartial witness.

Fiona has a vendetta
against Karen

because Karen fired her
for being useless at her job.

Or maybe Karen fired her

because she uncovered
the true nature
of your operation.

I know Fiona. She was useless.

Judge, can I ask
why Jennifer is again
not present today?

Jennifer is unwell.
I'm afraid she's unable
to attend.

I have submitted a letter
from her current doctor
attesting to that fact.

Also I've been denied
any access to her, Judge.

It's as if Miss Grayson
has purposely
just kept me away from her.

Have you denied him access,
Marla?

You can't deny an attorney
access to his client.

This man claims
to be her lawyer.

He can produce
no piece of paper to prove it.
No contract, no retainer.

He just suddenly appeared
in my office making threats
and accusations.

Your Honor, more than once
you and I have seen
unscrupulous lawyers

seeking to exploit the elderly
for their hard-earned savings.

I think this is why
Mr. Ericson wants Miss Peterson
out of my protection.

That's the exact opposite
of what is happening.

Can you present any paperwork
that proves you are
Miss Peterson's lawyer?

If I could just
get access to her,

I guarantee you,
she would sign a retainer.

So Jennifer Peterson hasn't
retained you as her lawyer?

I am acting on behalf
of concerned parties

who are extremely worried
about Jennifer

and the outrageous treatment
she's been given.

Who are these
concerned parties?

I'm not at liberty
to reveal that information.

They are friends
of Miss Peterson
who wish to remain anonymous.

Sir, we're going around
in circles.

Either you show me
some paperwork

that proves you are
Miss Peterson's lawyer

or you bring
these concerned parties
into a hearing

and let them speak
for themselves.

But for now, Mr. Ericson,

your request to dissolve
this guardianship is denied.

Sir. Sir. Sir.

Look... Whoa!

Okay! It's family court, okay?

The judge is an asshole.
He's an idiot.
He doesn't even know law.

- He drives a fucking Subaru!
- Stop talking!

Stop!

Fuck this.

Good morning.

Good morning.

My name is Walter Smith.

These are my brothers,
Tony and Chad.

I spoke to your manager,
Mr. Rice, this morning

about a tour of the facility.

Great. I'll get him
on the phone for you.

Thank you.

- Mr. Smith?
- Mr. Smith, yeah.

- Marla.
- Mm-hmm?

- She's dead.
- Who?

Jennifer Peterson's dead.

What?

- When?
- In 1949.

When she was three months
and nine days, from polio.

The woman we have
isn't Jennifer Peterson.

She just stole the identity
of a dead child.

And look at this.

I found an obituary
of the dead girl
in an old newspaper.

And, of course,
we have superb medical staff

and facilities on site.

- So, any questions?
- Actually, yes.

My father has a friend
who's a resident here.

We'd love if
we could say a quick hello.
It would mean a lot.

-Oh, of course.
What is the name?
-Jennifer Peterson.

- Is there a problem?
- No, uh... Jennifer's
been unwell. She's resting.

We'll be very quick.
We promised our father.
You understand.

Of course. The thing is,
Jennifer's guardian
has stipulated

that she have
only approved visitors.

That's odd.
She sounds a bit more like
a prisoner than a guest.

No. No, um...

No.

Um... tell you what.

Why don't I try and get
Jennifer's guardian on the phone
and see what I can do?

Of course.

- Hey! Hey,
what did you do to him?
- Oh, shit.

- Find her! Go!
- Somebody help Mr. Rice!

- Help!
- Gerry!

Oh, shit!

Lock it down. Lock it down.

- Then who do we have?
- I don't know.

This stolen identity
is incredibly sophisticated.

We're talking about passports,
driver's license, employment,

tax records going back 40 years.

They've scrubbed all trace
of the real Jennifer Peterson,

including her death certificate.

Marla Grayson. Yeah.

Fuck. I'm on my way.

Madam.

Madam?

Chad.

Thank you.

Madam!

Get down on the ground!

- Madam?
-

Hello?

Out of the way!
Get out of the way!

About fucking time.

Open the door.

- You don't wanna do this.
- Open it!

Listen to me. I am prepared
to kill you to get out of here.

Are you prepared to die
to stop me, hmm?

I didn't think so.

Thank you.

Right this way, madam.

- Hi.
-

Get the fuck off me!
- That way.

Fuck you.

- We got you. We got you.
- No, you don't.

Yeah, vacation is over.

Let's go.

Get down.

What is your name?

Why'd you wanna kidnap
that little old lady?

Wanna make your phone call?

Want a doughnut?

He doesn't know it yet,
but we found him in our system.

- He's done time before.
- Who is he?

Alexi Ignatyev.
Brother of Nicholas Ignatyev

who was once a brigadier
in the Cleveland Russian mafia.

- Was?
- Hmm. Nicholas died
seven years ago in a fire,

along with his boss,
Roman Lunyov.

It was arson, a hit.
They'd been caught skimming.

These assholes
were drug smugglers

and implicated
in a bunch of murders.

We thought Alexi died
in the fire too,
but here he is,

trying to kidnap your ward.

- Who is she anyway,
your ward?
- Nobody.

She's a retired businesswoman.

- Rich?
- So-so.

Well, maybe it was just
a stickup job.

You guys did good stopping him.
This guy's a bad dude.

Do me a favor.
Keep us in the loop
if you hear anything else.

- Hmm. Sure thing, Frankie.
- Lou?

- Hmm?
- Don't call me Frankie.

You used to like
being called Frankie.

Yeah, not anymore.

- Frankie?
- It used to be a thing
for a second.

I like it.

- Frankie.
- No.

Yeah. It's me.

I need something.

Oh. Hello.

Sorry. I'm just closing up.
Did you have an appointment?

Let's go live now
to Lucille O'Mara
who is at the scene.

The well-loved family doctor
was found dead
at her place of work.

Dr. Karen Amos
was a highly popular
and respected doctor...

Police will not yet confirm
that it was suicide.

- Fran?
- Marla?

- You heard about Karen.
- Yeah. Oh, my God, baby.

Quick, pack a bag.

We gotta go.
If they killed her,
they're coming for us.

We don't know they killed her.
Karen may have had trouble.

Oh, really?
Do you believe that?

Okay, then.
Marla, I don't want you
to get shot in the head.

- I don't wanna get shot either.
- So we don't get shot
in the head.

We went after Jennifer Peterson
because she was a cherry

with no strings attached,
baby.

But she's a spider web,

and we're gonna get
trapped in it.

Well, maybe, but maybe not.

They brought guns
into a care home.
They're the Russian mafia.

- Ex-Russian mafia.
- Marla, pack a fucking bag!

Fuck.

Curtis, it's Marla.

Yeah, we saw.

I know. I know.

Yeah, you should
close the office.
Hang tight for a while, okay?

Can you send me a list
of all the empty,

unsold properties on our books
as soon as you can?

Okay. Thanks. Goodbye.

It's gonna be okay.

Jennifer,
how are you feeling?

Good.

Heard about Dr. Amos.

- Is Alexi your son?
- What? No. That idiot?

But you are connected
to the Russian mafia?

He'll kill you next.

I mean, that is unless
you get me out of here now.

Then he might let you live.

Jennifer,
listen to me carefully.

I don't lose. I won't lose.

I'm never letting you go.

I own you.

And I will drain you
of your money, your comfort

and your self-respect.

Not because I want to,

not because I'll enjoy it
or because I planned for it,

but because your people
didn't play by the rules.

You wanna beat me?
Well, come at me
fair and square.

You get me in a courtroom.
You outplay me.

You don't bring guns
into a care home.

You don't murder
one of my friends.

This is your life now,
Jennifer.

You are just another
old lady in a care home,

with dementia,
with incontinence,

with arthritis.

With no one.

Except me.

Jennifer,

or whoever the hell
you really are...

you're gonna die in here.

Alone and in terrible pain.

Hey! Let her go!

Come on. Come on.

There you go. Let her go.
Nice and easy.

Don't. She's the one.

Good Lord.
Marla, are you okay?

- Did she hurt you?
- Only superficially.

I got lucky.
But what about next time?

As you can see,
her mental health
has severely deteriorated.

As this doctor's note
describes,

Miss Peterson has become
delusional, paranoid

and violent.

She's a danger to others
and herself.

And her doctor and I recommend
that she be moved immediately

to a secure psychiatric facility

where her needs will be
more adequately taken care of.

I agree.

Don't worry.

This belong
to one of your wards?

I just need
an approximate valuation,
Vee.

It's a real nice stone,
not the usual dog shit
people bring in.

What are we talking
retail?

Mm, 175, maybe 200 grand.
It's a nice one.

You mind holding on to it,
keep it in your safe?

- Is it trouble?
- Oh, no.

No, I have some errands to run.

I don't want it in my purse
all day.

Thanks.

Fran says hello. Oh, she told me
to ask after your brother Mikey.

- Mikey?
- Yeah. He still in the trade?

Why? You need a fence
for this?

In the future, maybe.

Michael still moves stuff
here and there.

Good to know.

Hey, how'd it go?
Did she take the bait on Mikey?

Oh, yeah.
He may be a solution.

- Good.
- Hey.

- Did you pack
our passports?
- Passports.

Fuck.

Shit, baby. No, I didn't.
Didn't you?

- Fuck. No.
- I'm close to the house.

I can go pick them up
if you want me to.

I think we should have them
just in case.

- But be careful.
- Okay.

- See you back at the place?
- Yeah, okay.

- Okay.
- Bye.

What happened?
Oh, my God. Are you okay?

-I don't know.
I think somebody...
-Oh, my God.

Hello, Marla Grayson.

I don't like you.

You only just met me.

You know, you remind me
of someone I knew
when I was younger.

She was fiery, like you.

Amusing, confident.

Uncooperative.

I cut all her fingers off
with a bread knife.

She's buried underneath
a Jimmy John's now.

Don't underestimate me.

Who are you?

A dangerous man.

It says that on
your business card?

You should be scared
right now.

Why? Are you gonna make
another big fucking speech?

Ow!

Ow. Jesus fucking Christ.

You stole something
from me.

Something more than an old lady.
You know what I'm talking about.

Right now
I have men searching
for what you stole.

They are tearing apart
your office, your home.

And if they do not find
what they're looking for,

I will tear you apart until
you tell me where they are.

Do you recognize that woman?

That's your mother,
isn't it?

After I destroy you,
I will destroy her.

Go ahead. I don't give a shit
about that fucking sociopath.

You know, I...

I don't like being angry.

I much prefer to be calm.

But you... have compromised
a life I spent years
carefully building.

Do you know who I am?

No, but I think I can guess.

You're either Nicholas Ignatyev
or Roman Lunyov.

My bet is you're Roman,
'cause you seem more like
a boss than a soldier.

So, you faked your own death

and then were afraid your
Cleveland friends would use
your mother to flush you out,

so you turned her
into Jennifer Peterson.

I'm going to kill you now.

Okay.

You're not afraid of death?

Do you remember
how scary it was in 1807?

No, me neither
because I wasn't alive yet.

It'll feel the same way
when I'm dead.

Not even nothing.
Why be scared of that?

Anyway, you don't need
to kill me.

When you sent that lawyer
with a case full of money,

your instinct was right,
I'm willing to be bought off.

Your man just came in too low.

- Do you have a figure in mind?
- Yeah.

I want $10 million.

Of course you do.

You are... brave,
Miss Grayson.

Stupid, but brave.

Well, to make it
in this country,
you need to be brave.

And stupid and ruthless
and focused.

Because playing fair,
being scared,
that gets you nowhere.

That gets you beat.

You know that.
And I wanna be rich, Mr. Lunyov.

I wanna be very...
fucking rich.

And my bet is that $10 million,
that's not such a big deal
for you.

But for me, that's a start.

That's enough to be able
to use money as a weapon,

like a bludgeon,

the way real rich people do.

That's what I want.

- You hold no cards.
- I have your mother
and your diamonds.

I've made sure that if I die,
you'll never see those diamonds

and it'll be so... complicated

to extricate your mother
from her situation...

that it'll take years
before she sees freedom.

If she even lives that long.

Just pay me off.

It's the easiest way.

Get rid of her.

Make sure it looks organic.

You got a pay phone?

I'll give you $50
if you'll let me
make a call on your cell.

Hey, it's Fran.
Leave a message.

Can you call me a cab?

Oh, Fran!

Oh, baby! No!

Oh, thank God.

Oh.

Fran?

Fran.

Marla.

I thought...

I thought...
I thought we were dead.

No, we're alive, hon.

- I'm scared.
- I'm so fucking sorry.

I'm so sorry.

It's okay.

How are you feeling?

Feeling better.

What's that, Marla?

It's the license plate
of the car our Russian friend
was driving.

Fran, say the word
and we're gone.

We start again somewhere new.

Just us.

And do what?

Hmm?

We lost everything.

Not quite everything.

We can take them and run.

Or you can make a call
and get me the address

that that license
is registered to.

If we run, we'll always be
looking over our shoulders.

We'll always be waiting
for him to find us.

Isn't it better
to finish this now?

You have a plan?

I do.

Will it work?

I don't know.

Give me the phone.

Okay, here we are.

This is the address
for plate F8T 444.

That one?

- Yeah.
- He can't live here.

Maybe the plate was stolen.

No, the plate definitely
matched a black Yukon.

Go around the back.
I wanna get a closer look.

It's not him, it's his driver.
Go. He's on the move.

There. Follow him.

He's pulling up.

Sir, your car is downstairs.

Be careful.

Hi. Uh... I have
an appointment with, uh...

Mr. Naylor
at Galen and Hersch.

It's on the third floor,
I think.

I'm actually a little early.

Uh, is there a restroom
I could use while I'm waiting?

Sure. Right around this corner
and to your left.

Thanks.

Hi. Can you help me?

I think I'm on
totally the wrong level,

and I can't find the exit.
Is this B1?

This is level 2.
The exit's back that way
around the corner.

Can't I use that elevator?

That's a private elev...

Where is Jackson?

- Hello again.
-

Sir?

Is he in there?

Lying in a pool
of his own urine.

You wanna go get rid of him?

Lead the way.

How much do you think
he weighs? A hundred pounds?

110, yeah.

Sleep tight,
motherfucker.

There you are.
How are you feeling?

Don't try to talk.
You have a tube in your throat.

See that?

You're a John Doe.

You nearly died of an overdose.

You're lucky
they found you in time.

You wanna hear
an interesting fact?

When an incapacitated
John Doe is found,

the state automatically
appoints them a legal guardian

to oversee their treatment
and welfare.

You know where
this is going, right?

I'm now
your legal guardian.

I got you, John Doe.

I can do whatever
I want with you.

Let's find a nurse to get
that tube out of your throat

so you can arrange for
$10 million to be moved
into my account.

Ding-dong.

How's the throat?

Still painful.

I know
you don't like losing.

But as your guardian,
I suggest you swallow your pride
and pay me off.

You can have your mother,
your diamonds, your freedom.

You'll never see me again.

Even if I pay you off,

are you not afraid
I'll still kill you?

I'm not afraid, no.

- I can make it happen easily.
- I know.

But I could just as easily
kill you if this thing
continues any longer.

Okay.

- Okay?
- Let's end this now.

I'll give you the $10 million.

I can arrange that.

- However...
- However?

I'd like to propose
an alternative.

Instead of me giving you
$10 million...

we become partners,
go into business together.

- Are you fucking with me?
- No, I'm serious.

I mean... I hate you...

but, oh,
the money we could make.

You're a rare person, Marla.

Your determination is...
Frankly, it's scary.

But this guardianship grift,

it's ripe,

but right now
it's small potatoes.

I propose
we create a monster...

a countrywide
guardianship corporation,

with you as CEO and co-owner.

Use my money, use your...

skills.

Destroy the competition.

Take control
of the entire market.

You wanna start
a company with me?

Not just one company,

a corporation with
80 different companies,
all registered offshore,

charging each other invoices,
burying profit.

A real estate arm, a legal arm,
a training arm,

a medical arm,
a pharmaceutical arm.

- Our own chain of care homes.
- Exactly.

With thousands of guardians
working for us.

With hundreds of thousands
of wards in our care.

That way, you win.

But I win too.

And we make each other
billions of dollars.

Legally.

Mostly.

What about the diamonds?

Fuck the diamonds.

Split them, 50-50.

How do we trust each other?

If we make each other rich,
the trust will follow.

So, are you in?

Every fortune ever accumulated
started with a leap of faith.

But before you take
that leap...

first take a long,
hard look at yourself.

Know who you are.

Ask yourself:

am I an insider?

Or am I an outsider?

Am I a lamb?

Or am I a lion?

Am I a predator?

Or am I prey?

Am I good at money?

Or am I good at people?

What am I willing to sacrifice
to achieve my dreams?

Marla Grayson,
CEO and founder.

What lines
will I not cross?

Don't try to be anyone else.

Just know who you are

and use that to your advantage.

So, who are you?

Me?

I'm just someone who cares.

Your ideals

So, are you lion or a lamb?

I'm a lioness.

And I will do
whatever I need to do

to protect the people
I care about.

You've had amazing success
in such a short period of time.

Marla, what's your secret?

Whoo! Whoo!

There is no secret, Peter.

All it takes is hard work

and the courage and
determination to never give up.

So now you are a rich woman.

How much are you worth?
How much do you have
in the bank?

You were great.

My cheeks are aching
from forcing that smile
for so long.

I haven't counted recently.

But you are firmly
in the top slice
of the one percent.

- What should we do now?
- Whatever the fuck we want.

Hey, bitch!

And you're still only 39.

That must feel good.

Hey, bitch!

-Oh, listen.
I don't have time...
-Marla!

No! Security!

My mom died!

Help! Help!

You never let me see her!
She died in there alone!
You fucking bitch!

- Drop the weapon!
- Fucking bitch!

Someone call help! Marla?

Baby, you're gonna be fine.
No, no, no.

Look at me, baby.
Look at me. Look at me.

Listen to me.
You're gonna be fine.
You're gonna be fine. Marla?

Help. Help!

Marla.

No, Marla!

No, no, no, no, no.

So, with all the success...
- Help!

...are you still ambitious?

Are there dreams
you still wanna achieve?

Peter, I am only
just getting started.

Marla Grayson, CEO and founder
of Grayson Guardianships,

thank you.

Thanks. It's been fun.