Chapter 3 - The Scavengers Retreat
The sight of Vanessa dragging her own suitcase across the shattered remnants of my wedding vase was a vision I knew I would cherish during the long, sleepless nights ahead. Her cream-colored heels clicked frantically, no longer dominant, but desperate, as she practically ran past the sheriff's deputies and out into the dark July night. She didn't even look back at Daniel. The illusion of their grand romance had evaporated the exact second the money disappeared.
Daniel stood in the center of the room, looking smaller than I had ever seen him. The deputies stood by the door, their arms crossed, watching his every move like hawks.
"I need my suits," Daniel muttered, his voice hollow. "My computer. My files."
"The suits are in the closet," I said coldly. "The computer and the files belong to Vanguard Logistics. They stay here for the forensic accountants. Move, Daniel. Your ten minutes are ticking."
He stumbled up the stairs, the heavy thuds of his footsteps lacking the arrogant rhythm they usually had. I listened to him up there, rummaging through the closet, likely throwing his expensive tailored clothes into a duffel bag in a panic.
I looked down at Lily. She had calmed down, her tiny mouth making little nursing motions against my chest. "We did it, baby," I whispered to her. "We cleared out the rot."
Ten minutes later, Daniel descended the stairs carrying two oversized gym bags. His tie was loosened, his hair disheveled, the pristine corporate warrior completely dismantled. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking at me with a mixture of intense hatred and desperate calculation.
"You think you've won, Mara?" he hissed, keeping his voice low so the deputies wouldn't intervene. "You think you can run Vanguard without me? The clients know me. The contracts are under my name. Without me, that company collapses in a month, and your precious family trust goes down with it."
"The clients know your name, Daniel, but they know my father’s reputation," I replied, leaning forward slightly, forcing myself to bear the physical pain. "And they certainly won't want to be associated with a CEO facing federal fraud charges. Arthur has already contacted the top three accounts. They’ve agreed to stay on under interim management."
"Interim management? Who? Arthur is eighty years old!"
I smiled, a slow, predatory expression that finally made Daniel take a step back. "Not Arthur, Daniel. Me. I hold the controlling shares. I am the new chairwoman of the board. I built the infrastructure of that company while you were busy playing golf and spending our capital on mistresses. I know every line of code, every shipping lane, and every client’s personal preference."
Daniel’s jaw dropped. He had spent years telling his friends that I was "just a housewife" who liked to dabble in charity work. He had forgotten that I graduated top of my class at Wharton before I committed the grave mistake of believing his promises of love.
"You're a monster," he whispered.
"No, Daniel," I said, my voice dropping to a harsh, razor-thin whisper. "I'm a mother. And you brought another woman into the house where my daughter sleeps while I was still bleeding from giving birth to her. You are lucky I am only taking your company and your house. If you ever look toward my daughter again, I will take your freedom."
Deputy Vance stepped forward, tapping his watch. "Time’s up, Mr. Roth. Let’s go."
May you like
Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but the deputy gripped his elbow with an iron hold, turning him toward the door. Daniel was led out into the night, the door closing behind him with that same soft click.
This time, it didn't sound like a lock turning me in. It sounded like a prison door locking him out.
