Chapter 5 - Turning the Tables
Viral Headline: THE RECKONING: The Night I Invited My Husband’s Mistress to My Mother’s Memorial DinnerThe silence in the cabin was suffocating. Grant took a slow step forward, his eyes glinting in the dark. He looked at me, then down at his open briefcase, and finally at the small glass vial lying on the carpet.
"I thought you were in Wausau, Emily," he said, his voice dangerously low.
I didn't panic. I didn't scream. I stood my ground, my fingers tightly gripping the metal flash drive hidden inside my jacket pocket.
"I couldn't sleep, Grant," I said, my voice dripping with a terrifying calmness. "I kept thinking about how lonely Sarah must be. And how much I wanted to see my husband."
Sarah stepped out from the shadows of the loft stairs, wearing a silk robe. Her face went pale when she saw me standing in the living room.
"Emily..." she whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. "What... what are you doing here?"
"I came to deliver a message," I said, taking a step toward them. "And to invite you both to a dinner party."
Grant laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "A dinner party? Emily, look at yourself. You're trespassing. You're acting completely manic. You've been tracking me, snooping through my things. This is exactly what we've been talking about. You're not well."
"I've never been clearer in my life, Grant," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "Tomorrow night is the anniversary of my mother's passing. I've arranged a small memorial dinner at the main estate house. Just us. And Richard. And your lovely notary friend, Clara Thomas."
Grant's smile faltered. His eyes narrowed. "What do you think you're playing at?"
"I'm playing a game of assets, Grant," I said, stepping closer. "You see, I know about the twenty-two million dollar offer from the resort conglomerate. I know about 'Northern Horizon Holdings.' And I know about the Donepezil you've been slipping into Richard's tea."
Sarah let out a sharp gasp, looking terrified at Grant.
"You don't have proof of anything," Grant snarled, taking a threatening step toward me. "You're a housewife with a history of anxiety. Who do you think the police are going to believe? Especially after they see the financial records on your computer showing you stole two hundred thousand dollars from your own stepfather?"
"Oh, I think they'll believe the physical evidence," I said, tapping my pocket where the flash drive lay. "But we don't need to involve the police just yet. After all, we're family. That's why we're going to have dinner tomorrow night. We're going to talk about how we're going to divide the twenty-two million. Because if you don't show up, Grant... I will release the video of you and Sarah forcing a drugged, elderly man to sign away his life's work. And I'll do it on the evening news."
I turned on my heel and walked out the side door, leaving them standing in the dark, stunned and terrified.
The next evening, the dining room of my mother's historic estate was lit by the soft glow of a dozen candles. The table was set with our finest china and silver.
Richard sat at the head of the table, looking cleaner and more alert than he had in weeks. Julian had spent the day helping me flush the toxins out of his system and monitoring his vitals.
At seven o'clock, the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to find Grant and Sarah standing on the porch. Grant wore his sharpest suit, trying to look confident, but the slight twitch in his jaw betrayed his terror. Sarah was trembling, her eyes darting around the dark driveway.
Behind them stood Clara Thomas, the notary, looking incredibly uncomfortable in her business blazer.
"Welcome," I said, smiling warmly. "Please, come in. Dinner is served."
We sat around the long mahogany table. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a steak knife. Nobody touched their food.
"Let's get this over with, Emily," Grant said, leaning forward, slamming his hands on the table. "You think you have us cornered. But you're forgetting one major detail. The amendment Richard signed is already in effect. As of five minutes ago, Clara officially registered the deed transfer online using a mobile portal. The lake parcels belong to Northern Horizon Holdings. We don't need your permission. We don't need your silence. You've lost."
Sarah let out a cruel, triumphant chuckle. "It's over, Emily. You were always too slow. Too weak."
May you like
I took a slow sip of my Pinot Noir. I looked at Grant, then at Sarah, and finally at Clara, who was looking down at her lap.
"Are you sure about that, Grant?" I asked softly.
