Chapter 6 - Cutting the Strings
I stepped out of the noisy ballroom and into a quiet, secluded hallway.
The marble floors echoed with the sharp clicks of my heels.
I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I had kept on speed dial for two decades.
"Arthur," I said when my financial adviser answered.
"Martha. Is everything alright? Shouldn't you be drinking champagne?"
"Listen to me very carefully, Arthur. I need you here at the hotel immediately."
"I can be there in ten minutes. What's wrong?"
"Bring the inheritance file. The one for the $120 million transfer scheduled for tomorrow morning."
There was a brief pause on the line.
"Understood. What are we doing with it?"
"We are canceling it. Entirely. Permanently."
"Martha, are you absolutely sure? The penalties..."
"I do not care about penalties, Arthur. I care about protecting Frank's legacy from a parasite."
I hung up the phone and leaned against the cool wall, taking a deep breath.
For the first time since waking up that morning, I felt completely in control.
Ten minutes later, Arthur hurried through the side entrance, briefcase in hand.
He met me and Mr. Sterling in a private meeting room off the main lobby.
He laid the documents out on the mahogany table.
"Sign here, here, and here," Arthur instructed, pointing to the thick stacks of paper.
"This revokes the scheduled wire transfer and places the entire sum into an irrevocable trust under your sole control."
I took the gold pen Mr. Sterling handed me.
I signed my name with firm, elegant strokes.
Every signature felt like a chain breaking.
Every initial felt like a victory.
"It is done," Arthur said, closing the briefcase. "The $120 million transfer has been officially canceled."
"Thank you both," I said, smoothing the front of my navy dress.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a toast to give."
I walked back toward the ballroom.
When I returned, the crystal chandeliers glowed brilliantly above the dance floor.
The band played softly in the background.
Natalie was sitting at the head table, smiling as though every part of her wicked plan had flawlessly succeeded.
The maid of honor finished her rambling speech.
The room erupted in polite applause.
Then, the bandleader leaned into the microphone.
"And now, we welcome the mother of the groom, Mrs. Martha Westbrook, for a few words."
The entire room turned toward me.
Natalie gave me one final, victorious smirk.
May you like
I rose from my chair, feeling the weight of her handwritten note inside my purse.
I steadied my hand, lifted my chin, and walked directly toward the microphone.
