Chapter 4 - The Christmas Eve ShowdownThe dining room had gone dead silent when I walked back in.
All eighteen guests had stopped eating. Judith was dabbing her eyes with a napkin, putting on a masterful performance of a grieving matriarch terrorized by her unhinged daughter-in-law. Ryan stood at the foot of the stairs, looking triumphant, holding his phone out like a microphone.
“There she is,” Ryan announced loudly to the room, projecting his voice so everyone could hear. “Ladies and gentlemen, my wife has finally decided to join us. And she has a very important phone call to make to her father. Go ahead, Chloe. Put your dad on speaker. Tell him how much you need our investment capital.”
My father’s voice crackled through the phone speaker, booming and sharp.
“Ryan? Is that you? What is this nonsense about three hundred thousand dollars? Chloe, put me on speaker right now. What’s going on over there?”
Ryan smirked, his eyes locking onto mine with supreme arrogance. “Tell him, Chloe. Tell him you need the money to save our marriage.”
I walked past Ryan without a glance, stepping right up to the head of the table where Judith sat in her red velvet dress. I picked up the half-empty bottle of expensive Cabernet Sauvignon, uncapped it, and slowly poured a generous splash right over the center of the green bean casserole still splattered across her white rug.
Judith gasped, rising halfway out of her chair with a shriek. “Are you completely insane? That rug cost four thousand dollars!”
“Relax, Judith,” I said smoothly, turning to face the entire room. I reached out, took the phone from Ryan’s hand, and brought it directly to my mouth. “Dad? I’m here.”
“Sweetheart, are you okay? I heard shouting in the background,” my father’s voice echoed through the silent room.
“I’m better than okay, Dad,” I said, my voice ringing clear and steady. “In fact, I’m filing for divorce. And as for Ryan’s investment request? I’m afraid his business partners are going to have a hard time cashing checks from a prison cell.”
The color drained entirely from Ryan’s face. The arrogant smirk vanished, replaced by a sudden, frantic panic.
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“Chloe... don't you dare,” Ryan hissed, lunging forward to grab the phone back.
Before his fingers could touch me, the heavy oak front door of the house swung open with a loud bang.
