Chapter 5 - The True Master of the HouseLawrence’s older face instantly twitched with sudden, visceral anxiety. The confident, wealthy veneer he had worn all evening began to crack, revealing a terrified old man underneath.
Penelope blinked in utter confusion, looking back and forth between her husband’s pale face and my calm smile.
“Lawrence? What is she talking about? What kind of ridiculous nonsense is this shell company?” she snapped, her voice rising in pitch.
“Pembroke Holdings,” I explained smoothly, my voice echoing clearly through the dining room, “is the specific real estate asset trust that legally owns this entire five-bedroom mansion you are currently sitting in.”
Gavin laughed, but it was a weak, pathetic sound. “You're insane. My name is on the deed!”
“Your name is on a lease management agreement, Gavin,” I corrected him instantly, my words cutting like a scalpel. “Pembroke Holdings also owns the luxury vehicle showroom where you work as a glorified manager. And it owns the commercial skyscraper downtown where Lawrence’s consulting firm rents three full floors on a heavily discounted rate.”
Gavin’s face instantly drained of all its remaining color until he looked like an absolute ghost standing under the bright lights. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
Isla stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes from the couch, her trembling hands covering her mouth.
“Mom...?” she whispered in total, breathless shock. “What... what is happening?”
I reached over, completely ignoring the Crest family, and squeezed her cold, wet hand to reassure her.
“Your father and I built much more than sentimental clutter before he passed away, sweetie,” I told her softly. “He was the 'Pembroke' in Pembroke Holdings. We just preferred to live a quiet life. But we always made sure our daughter would be protected from wolves.”
Lawrence stood up so quickly that his heavy leather chair scraped backward loudly, making a horrible screeching sound against the pristine hardwood floor.
“You are lying! You're lying through your teeth!” he shouted, his fists slamming onto the table, rattling the crystal glasses. “We checked your background! You live in a suburban house! You drive a piece of junk!”
“I do not lie, Lawrence. I simply prefer to keep my private business out of the public eye,” I replied calmly. “Unlike your family, I don't need a massive mansion and expensive suits to feel powerful. The real power is holding the keys while letting the tenants think they own the building.”
Outside, the heavy rain continued to flash aggressively against the large glass windows, illuminated by a sudden, distant flash of lightning.
And then, a new sound entered the night.
The high-pitched, rhythmic sirens of multiple police cars began to howl faintly in the far distance, growing louder and more terrifying with every passing second as they raced toward Crestwood Estates.
Gavin spun around, his eyes wild with panic, and glared fiercely at his wife on the couch.
“Did you do this?!” he hissed, taking an aggressive step toward her. “Did you tell her about our private business? Did you run to your mommy like a pathetic little child?!”
Isla flinched violently away from his aggressive tone, pressing herself deeper into the sofa.
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Before he could take another step, I moved with a speed that shocked him, stepping directly between them to completely block his view of my daughter. My body was an impenetrable wall.
“No, Gavin. She did not have to tell me a single thing,” I stated clearly, looking down at him. “Because you did it all yourself.”
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