Chapter 5 - Brooke’s True Colors
Without the Paradise Valley house, without the Mercedes, and with the wire transfers cut off, Trent’s grand illusion evaporated within forty-eight hours.
Through my private investigator, I received updates on their chaotic scramble. Trent had been forced to call an Uber XL to transport their luggage to his parents' modest two-bedroom ranch house in Mesa.
Brooke had envisioned moving from her Tempe apartment into a multi-million-dollar Paradise Valley mansion with a pool, a tennis court, and an unlimited budget funded by an unsuspecting ex-wife. Instead, she found herself crammed into Trent’s childhood bedroom, surrounded by high school track trophies, faded wallpaper, and the suffocating presence of Gloria and Walt Miller.
The real explosion came on Tuesday morning, when Brooke tried to use the corporate debit card linked to the Heritage Nest Holdings account to pay for an expensive prenatal spa package.
The card was declined.
Because Marcus had obtained an emergency asset freeze related to the fraud investigation, the entire account—holding twenty-eight thousand dollars of unspent money stolen from my firm—was locked solid by the district court.
An audio recording from the Mesa property, captured by private security documenting the return of company-issued electronics, revealed the fallout.
"What do you mean the card didn't work?!" Brooke's voice shrieked inside the Miller living room, loud enough to echo through the screen door. "You told me she was weak! You told me she was an old workaholic who would do anything to avoid a messy public scandal!"
"She went behind my back to her lawyers, Brooke!" Trent yelled defensively. "I didn't know she put the house under her corporation! She never told me that!"
"You idiot!" Brooke screamed. "You didn't even read the deed?! You lived there for four years and didn't know whose name was on the title?! I gave up my modeling gigs for this! I got pregnant because you promised me five thousand dollars a month and an estate in Paradise Valley!"
"You got pregnant because you love me!" Trent countered, his voice cracking with humiliation.
"Love you?!" Brooke laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "On a twelve-hundred-dollar paycheck? Are you insane? You can't even afford diapers on your salary! Your mother told me Harper was a pushover who paid for everything! She said Harper would keep funding our account just to stay on good terms with the family!"
"Brooke, watch your mouth in my house!" Gloria chimed in angrily. "We took you in! We built this plan together!"
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"Your house is a dump, old woman!" Brooke shouted. "And your son is a broke nobody!"
Within thirty minutes, Brooke was seen dragging her two designer suitcases down the Miller driveway, hailing a cab, and disappearing. Trent ran after her down the asphalt road, pleading and begging in his bare feet, but she didn't look back once.
