Chapter 4 - THE SHOWDOWN IN THE FOYER
“Simone?” Patricia stammered, her tea mug tilting slightly in her hand. “What are you... what are you doing here? I thought you were at the office. Shouldn't you be working?”
“Good morning, Patricia,” I said, my voice completely devoid of the warm, syrupy ‘Mom’ title I had foolishly used for years. “I’m not working today. In fact, I’m managing a few administrative updates regarding your family.”
Patricia’s face paled beneath her expensive cosmetics. She instinctively stepped back, trying to block the doorway. “I don't know what you’re talking about. Shouldn't you be waiting at home for Derek? He drove me to my clinic appointment this morning, remember?”
“Ah, yes. The clinic appointment,” I said smoothly, stepping past her uninvited into the foyer. “Strange clinic, considering private investigators photographed Derek and Gabriella checking into a luxury apartment downtown at ten-fifteen this morning instead of holding your hand in a waiting room.”
The tea mug slipped from Patricia’s fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor, splashing hot amber liquid across her designer slippers.
“You... you’re insane,” Patricia gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “You’ve lost your mind! I’m calling Derek right now—!”
“Don't bother wasting your cell phone battery,” a calm, authoritative voice echoed from the front doorway.
Victoria Vance stepped into the foyer behind me, accompanied by a local county sheriff’s deputy holding an official folder of court documents.
“My name is Victoria Vance, legal counsel for Mrs. Simone Carter,” Victoria announced, her voice ringing with courtroom authority. “We are here to serve formal notice of emergency civil asset freezing, corporate fraud investigation subpoenas, and an immediate petition for a fault-based divorce citing adultery and financial dissipation.”
Patricia staggered backward, grabbing onto the entryway console table to keep from collapsing. “Fraud? Divorce? You can't do this! You’re just a bitter, ungrateful little... little puppy dog!”
I stopped walking, turned around, and looked my mother-in-law dead in the eye.
“The puppy dog grew teeth, Patricia,” I said softly. “And she brought a pack of wolves.”
At that exact moment, my phone rang. It was Derek.
I hit speakerphone and held the device up so everyone in the foyer could hear.
“Simone? Baby, listen to me,” Derek’s voice blasted through the speaker, frantic, breathless, and soaked in sudden, desperate panic. “Mom just called me—she said you’re at her house acting crazy—honey, whatever you think is going on with Gabriella, it’s a complete misunderstanding, I swear to God—!”
I didn't yell. I didn't cry. I simply leaned toward the microphone and spoke with icy precision.
May you like
“Save your breath, Derek. The accounts are frozen, the apartment lease is documented, and your mother’s stellar alibi has been entered into the court record as evidence of accessory to marital fraud. Pack your bags. Your mother can tell you all about it when she joins you in paying off your legal fees.”
I tapped the screen, ending the call, and tossed the phone into my purse.
