Chapter 6 - The Fall of the House of Bennett
“You are trying to steal my house!” Margaret screamed, her traditional composure completely shattered. “I bought your house three years ago,” I corrected her. “I just let you live in it. Now, the rent is due.” Nathan stepped forward, putting a hand on his mother's shoulder to calm her. He begged me to talk about it, claiming I couldn't foreclose on his parents because it would kill his dad. I pointed out that his dad seemed healthy enough to take out a secret second mortgage on the lake house. Nathan flinched—he didn't know I knew about that.
Margaret glared at me, her eyes venomous. “You deceitful little bitch,” she spat. “You planned this. You planned this just to ruin us.” I dropped my voice an octave. “I planned to save you. I used my business capital to save you from living in a motel. All I wanted was basic human decency.” She yelled that they were the Bennetts. “And I am the bank,” I replied coldly.
She pointed a shaking finger at me and threatened that Nathan would divorce me, take half my little business, and use my own money to pay off the note. I looked at Nathan, who actually looked hopeful for a split second. “You should call your lawyer, Nathan,” I suggested. Cautiously, he asked what I had done. I explained that my business is an LLC, formed prior to our marriage, and the funds used were corporate retained earnings. Denise had structured the loan between my corporation and him, meaning it was entirely isolated from our marital assets.
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I watched the blood drain from his face as I continued. “If we divorce, the court will divide our marital assets. But you will still personally owe my company three hundred and forty-two thousand dollars.” He fell into one of my guest chairs, clutching his stomach, and whispered that I was ruining him. “You ruined yourself,” I replied. “When you sat at that table and watched your mother humiliate your daughters, you made your choice.”
Margaret looked frantically between me and her son, begging him to do something. But Nathan had nothing left; his hollow authority was gone. “Get out of my office,” I said. “Both of you. If you ever speak to my daughters again, I will not wait for the bank. I will have you evicted by Friday.” They walked out in silence. Margaret looked smaller than I had ever seen her. The silver bowl, the baseball games, the obsession with sons—none of it could pay the mortgage.
