Chapter 5 - The Whisper in the Dark
Back at Vance Manor, I watched the news coverage on a muted flatscreen TV. Whitmore Industries Stock Plummets Amid Sudden Ownership Dispute.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was an unknown number, but caller ID showed a Greenwich local code. I hesitated before sliding my thumb across the screen.
"Clara."
Raymond’s voice. It sounded frantic, stripped of its usual haughty veneer.
"Raymond," I answered calmly, my voice steady for the first time in over a decade.
"Where are you?" he demanded, the old entitlement creeping back into his tone. "Arthur Vance has seized my corporate shares. He's claiming some archaic clause about heirs. Did you run to him? Did you complain about the divorce settlement like a gold-digging parasite?"
I let out a low, cold laugh that made him pause on the other end of the line.
"Gold-digging, Raymond?" I asked softly. "I left behind a multi-million-dollar art collection, three sports cars, and a ten-bedroom mansion with nothing more than a single suitcase and the clothes on my back. You gave me nothing."
"You took something," he snarled. "Arthur is acting on your behalf. What did you tell him?"
"I told him nothing," I replied, tracing my hand over my rounding belly. "Arthur has eyes of his own, Raymond. Some men can spot a treasure even when fools throw it in the mud."
"Listen to me, Clara," Raymond hissed, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "Come back. We can annul the divorce. Chloe was just a... a temporary distraction. Mother agrees. Come back home, and we can start over."
May you like
I smiled into the darkness of my room. "Start over? With who, Raymond? You, your mother, and your little dress-up doll? No. Enjoy your mansion. Enjoy your wine. Because very soon, the bill for your eleven years of cruelty is coming due—and you won't be able to afford it."
I hung up and blocked the number permanently.
