Chapter 5 - The Unveiling
“You’re insane,” Lucas breathed, his voice trembling. He threw the paper down, pulling out his cell phone frantically. “David, call the bank. Call them right now!” David was already dialing, his face pale with panic. Margot stood perfectly still, watching thirty-two years of arrogance crumble in seconds. “Hello? Yes, this is David Thorne,” David said rapidly into the phone. “I need to authorize an immediate wire transfer from the Stephens account.” There was a pause. David’s face turned from pale to a sickly shade of grey. “What do you mean, frozen? By whose authority?”
David slowly lowered the phone. He looked at Lucas as if he were looking at a ghost. “It’s done, Lucas. Everything is locked. Fraud investigation.” “No!” Lucas roared, sweeping his arm across the table. The stacks of paper flew into the air, scattering across the beautiful Persian rug. The notary grabbed her bag and practically ran out the front door. Lucas turned to Margot, his chest heaving, his face red with uncontrollable rage. “How did you do this?” he yelled. “You don’t know anything! You’re just a writer!”
“I am a writer,” Margot agreed calmly. “Which means I know how to pay attention to details.” She walked around the table, stepping over the scattered documents. “I heard you, Lucas. At two in the morning. I heard everything.” Lucas stepped back, the realization finally hitting him. “I found the box in your closet,” she continued, her voice echoing in the quiet room. “I found the amended will. I found the divorce papers where you erased my name. You thought I was blind. You thought my silence was stupidity.”
May you like
Lucas’s anger suddenly broke into desperation as the reality of his situation crashed down on him. Without his money, he was nothing. He fell to his knees on the scattered papers. “Margot, please,” he begged, his voice suddenly small and pathetic. “We can fix this. I was stressed. The business was failing. I didn’t want to burden you. I was trying to protect you!” It was the final, desperate lie of a cornered man.
Margot looked down at him. She felt absolutely nothing. No love. No pity. No regret. “You didn’t want to protect me, Lucas. You wanted to discard me.” She walked toward the front door, pulling her car keys from her pocket. “Eleanor Vance is my attorney. She will handle all communication from now on.” Lucas scrambled to his feet. “You can’t just leave! This is my house!” Margot opened the heavy mahogany front door and let the afternoon air rush in. “Actually, Lucas,” she said, pausing on the threshold. “If you had bothered to read the deed you forced me to sign ten years ago, you’d know.” She offered him a cold, victorious smile. “This house is in my name. You have until tomorrow to pack your things and get out.”
