Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Web of Lies
By 7:30 p.m., the house was finally silent.
Uncle Thomas and Aunt Susan had fled in absolute mortification, Thomas leaving a curt text to Daniel: *“Do not call me. Do not call your cousins. You are on your own.”*
Patricia had been placed into the back of a squad car, her hysterical screams echoing down the manicured suburban street until the siren faded away. Brittany had been escorted out to a taxi after Officer Chen impounded her vehicle pending the corporate fraud investigation.
Daniel sat alone at the kitchen table.
His tie was undone. His expensive watch lay face down on the granite. The kitchen was a disaster—ribs in the trash, dirty marinade bowls on the counter, the smell of vinegar and cold grease lingering in the air.
“Claire,” Daniel whispered, his voice trembling. He looked up, his eyes rimmed with red. “Please. You have to hear me out.”
I didn’t sit down. I stood across from him, my jacket zipped, my purse over my shoulder.
“There is nothing to hear, Daniel.”
“I did it for us!” he suddenly cried out, his voice cracking with desperate passion. “I did it because I was tired of being the charity case! I knew about Vanguard, Claire! I found out eight months ago!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”
“Yes!” Daniel stood up, knocking his chair back. “Do you know what it felt like? Every day I went to that office, thinking I was climbing the ladder, thinking I was making something of myself—only to find out that my wife owned the entire building? That the board members patted me on the head because I was married to Evelyn Holloway’s daughter?”
“They patted you on the head because you were incompetent, Daniel,” I replied coldly. “They kept you on because I asked Marcus Vance to mentor you. I asked him to give you a chance to learn the commercial sector. You weren't a charity case; you were a man whose wife believed in his potential until you proved you had none.”
“I wanted my mother to respect me!” Daniel pleaded, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You don't understand her, Claire! She never loved me unless I was successful! She favored Brittany her whole life! If I didn't have money, if I didn't have the titles, she treated me like dirt! I just wanted her to be proud of me for once!”
I looked at him, feeling a fleeting pang of pity that was instantly extinguished by the memory of the slap, the three years of emotional abuse, and his callous indifference.
“So to win the love of a narcissistic mother, you stole from me?” I asked. “You allowed her to call me an ungrateful orphan in my own kitchen? You watched her slap me across the face and told me to apologize?”
Daniel fell silent. He looked down at his shoes.
“You didn’t do this for us, Daniel. You did it for your own fragile, pathetic ego,” I said.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a second folder. This one contained fifty pages of legal documents bound in blue cardstock.
“What is that?” he asked hoarsely.
“Petition for Dissolution of Marriage,” I said, sliding it across the table until it touched his watch. “Along with an ex-parte emergency restraining order requiring you to vacate these premises within two hours. Pack your clothes in two suitcases. Everything else stays.”
“Claire, no... please. Let’s go to counseling. We can fix this! I’ll sign whatever restitution agreement you want!”
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“You will sign the restitution agreement because if you don’t, Marcus Vance will file the criminal complaint with the District Attorney by 9:00 a.m. tomorrow,” I said evenly. “You have one hour and fifty minutes left, Daniel. Start packing.”
***