Chapter 5 - The Apology Tour
We drove back to the Sterling Manor.
Julian followed closely behind us in his own car, driving erratically.
When we walked through the front doors, Victoria was pacing in the foyer, holding a glass of wine.
She saw the look on Julian's face and the glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the marble floor.
"Julian?" she stammered.
"Pack your bags," Julian snarled, his voice vibrating with a rage I had never seen before.
"Julian, please, it's a mistake—"
"I SAID PACK YOUR BAGS!" he roared, making her flinch. "I hired a private investigator the day of the funeral. I looked into the offshore accounts my father mentioned in the will."
Victoria froze.
"You paid him," Julian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "You paid the man who lied about sleeping with my wife. You forged the emails. You ruined my life."
"I did it because I loved you!" Victoria cried, tears streaming down her face. "She wasn't good enough for you, Julian! She was nobody! I belonged here!"
"You belong in a cell," Julian spat.
The front doors opened, and two police officers stepped inside.
Julian had called them on the way over.
"Victoria Hayes?" one of the officers asked. "We have a warrant for your arrest for multiple counts of fraud and wire tampering."
Victoria screamed as they grabbed her arms.
She thrashed and kicked, her perfect hair coming undone, her designer dress rumpled.
As they dragged her past me, she glared at me with pure hatred.
"You think you won?!" she screamed. "He doesn't love you! He's just guilty!"
I leaned in close as she passed.
"I don't care if he loves me," I whispered. "I already won."
She was dragged out the door, the police sirens wailing into the distance.
The foyer was completely silent, except for the crunch of broken glass under Julian's expensive shoes.
He turned to look at me, and then at the five children standing behind me in a protective cluster.
"It's over," Julian said. "She's gone. We can be a family now."
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I looked at him, amazed at his delusion.
"No, Julian," I said. "The hard part hasn't even started."
