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"Enjoy the Presidential Suite with your assistant. I sincerely hope you brought cash." / Chapter 6 / 20

Chapter 6 - The Parasite’s True Colors

Dragged off the front steps of his former mansion by legal security, Harrison found himself sitting on a cold concrete bench outside the perimeter gates, clutching his phone with shaking fingers. He dialed Khloe’s number immediately. She was his last lifeline; she had to have saved some of the cash or designer goods he had bought her over the past year.

The line rang twice before a sharp, hostile voice picked up.

"What do you want, Harrison?" Khloe snapped. There was no trace of the sweet, submissive assistant left in her tone.

"Khloe, thank god. Listen to me, I'm locked out of the house, my accounts are frozen, and everything is a disaster. Where are you? Do you have any cash left from the shopping trips? We need to figure out our next move—"

"Are you out of your absolute mind?" Khloe shrieked, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Figure out our next move? With you? You’re broke, Harrison! You’re facing fraud charges, your company is liquidated, and you don't even have a hotel room for tonight!"

Harrison froze, the harsh reality of her words stabbing deep into his chest. "Khloe... I took care of you. I bought you that Aspen tennis bracelet, I gave you the suite—"

"That was an investment in a lifestyle that just went bankrupt!" Khloe hissed coldly. "Do you really think I was interested in a washed-up, middle-aged consultant who couldn't even pay his own hotel bill? I’ve already packed my bags. I’m staying with a venture capitalist friend in downtown Chicago who actually has money. Lose my number, loser."

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I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against the linoleum floor.

I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against...

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky.

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the...

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking against the pristine hospital linoleum. He reached for the tray table, his fingers brushing the edge of the papers. His voice was low, coated in a practiced, corporate calm that made my stomach churn worse than the spiked blood pressure.

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking agai...

Click.

The line went dead. Harrison sat alone on the cold concrete bench, the roar of passing traffic deafening his ears. The mistress who had helped him tear his life apart had abandoned him the exact second the money ran out. He had traded a loyal, brilliant wife for a shallow parasite, and now he had nothing left in the world.

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