Chapter 3 - The Scavenger’s Panic
While Daniel was disintegrating in the VIP room, Chloe Carter was realizing the true cost of her "triumph."
She had fled the ballroom to the ladies' lounge, her red dress trailing like a streak of fresh paint against the white marble tiles. She was clutching her phone to her ear, her manicured nails tapping frantically against the screen.
"Pick up, Daniel! Pick up!" she screamed into the receiver.
The door to the lounge swung open. It wasn't Daniel.
It was me.
I walked in, accompanied by two private security guards who stood by the door, effectively blocking her only exit. Chloe spun around, her eyes wild, her chest heaving.
"You think you're so smart, don't you?" she spat, trying to summon the venom that had fueled her toast. "You think because you have money and a family name, you can just wipe us out? Daniel loves me! He doesn't love you! He hasn't touched you in years, Victoria! He told me you're like ice!"
"Ice has its uses, Chloe," I said, walking to the mirror and calmly adjusting my hair. "For one thing, it keeps things from rotting. Unlike your career, which is currently decomposing on the ballroom floor."
"I'll sue you!" she screamed. "I'll sue you for slander! For defamation! You dragged my name through the mud in front of everyone!"
"It isn't slander if it's true," I said, turning to look at her. "And as of forty minutes ago, the Toronto Police Service has been handed a binder containing three years of your tax returns alongside the invoices from Carter Marketing. Did you really think we wouldn't notice that your 'marketing firm' has only one client, and that its entire revenue consists of transfers from the Whitmore Pediatric Foundation?"
Chloe's mouth opened, but no sound came out. She took a step back, her heel catching on the hem of her red dress. She stumbled, grabbing the edge of the marble sink for support.
"That's... that was Daniel's doing," she stammered, her voice dropping an octave into pure terror. "He told me it was a tax write-off. He said it was legal!"
"Daniel is a brilliant salesman, Chloe. But he is a terrible lawyer," I said, stepping closer. "He used you. He used you as a vault to hide the money he was stealing from my family. And now that the vault is open, all the stolen goods have your name on them."
"Please," she whispered, her pride finally shattering. She dropped to her knees, the red fabric of her dress pooling around her like blood on the cold floor. "Please, Victoria. I didn't know. I swear I didn't know about the foundation money. He told me it was his personal bonus. I was just... I was in love."
"No, you weren't," I said, looking down at her without an ounce of pity. "You were hungry. You saw a man who looked like he had everything, and you wanted a bite. But you didn't check to see who owned the kitchen."
May you like
I nodded to the security guards.
"The police are waiting in the lobby, Miss Carter. I suggest you go quietly. If you make a scene, there are three news crews outside who would love to get a photo of you in handcuffs. Red really is your color, after all."
