Chapter 5 - The Desperate Pursuit
It took Arthur exactly four days to scrape together enough cash from his furious sister, Brooke, to buy a commercial economy ticket to Barcelona. He looked terrible—the arrogant, polished businessman replaced by a desperate, unshaven man with bloodshot eyes. Using a cheap private investigator, he tracked Evelyn's location. When his taxi pulled up to the heavy wrought-iron gates of the cliffside villa, he could barely believe his eyes. It was a palace. He buzzed the intercom frantically, hammering his fist against the metal, screaming for Evelyn to open the gate.
When the gates finally swung open, Arthur marched up the sprawling cobblestone driveway. Standing on the expansive front terrace was Evelyn. She wore a sleek, tailored white linen suit and held a tablet, looking like a powerful, untouchable CEO. Standing just a few feet behind her, casting a long, intimidating shadow, was Thomas Landry. “What do you want, Arthur?” Evelyn asked, her voice terrifyingly calm, filled with icy indifference. “You stole my company!” Arthur yelled, though he stopped abruptly when Thomas took a slow step forward. “You tricked me!”
Evelyn let out a sharp, elegant laugh. “I tricked you? I put the documents right in front of you. Marcus begged you to read them. You wanted to rush to your 'heir'.” Arthur flinched. “Vanessa lied,” he choked out, humiliation burning his throat. “The baby isn't mine. She left me.” Evelyn's expression remained entirely unchanged. “And why is that my problem?” Desperate, Arthur played his final card. “Because I'm the father of your children! Leo and Chloe need their father. We can fix this, Evie. Just give me back the company.”
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Thomas let out a menacing scoff, but Evelyn raised a hand to stop him. She stepped closer, looking down at Arthur. “You don't get to say their names. You called them obstacles. You abandoned them to play house with a mistress. Every single day, you chose to destroy our family.” She held up the tablet. “As for the company, it was never yours. You stole my father’s legacy when he was dying. I just took it back.”
Arthur dropped to his knees on the cobblestones, sobbing and pleading that he had nothing left. Evelyn stared at the pathetic man crying on her driveway without an ounce of pity; she felt only closure. “Thomas,” she said, never breaking eye contact with Arthur, “Call security. Have this man escorted off my property. If he returns, have him arrested for trespassing.” As Arthur begged at her feet, Evelyn turned her back and walked through the heavy oak doors. The ghost of her past was finally dead and buried.
