Chapter 6 - The Desperate and the Damned
By two o’clock in the afternoon, the internet had exploded.
The video of the slap went viral on every social media platform. The hashtag #JusticeForClaire trended nationwide. The public’s reaction was instantaneous and savage. Activists, business leaders, and ordinary citizens expressed their absolute disgust at Adrian's behavior.
Halcyon’s stock, traded on secondary markets, plummeted to near zero.
That was when the cockroaches started crawling out of the woodwork.
My penthouse phone rang incessantly. My security team downstairs informed me that Diane and Vanessa were in the lobby, begging and screaming to be let up.
“Let them up,” I told the security desk. “But only under the supervision of two guards.”
A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened.
Diane and Vanessa rushed into my living room. Gone were the arrogant, proud women who had demanded breakfast and claimed ownership of my home. Diane looked disheveled, her makeup smeared, her hands shaking. Vanessa was crying hysterically, clutching her expensive designer handbag—the very handbag bought with my stolen money.
“Claire! You have to stop this!” Diane wailed, throwing herself toward me. The security guards quickly stepped in, blocking her from getting close. “It was a mistake! Adrian was stressed! You know how men get when they are under pressure!”
“A mistake?” I asked, sitting comfortably on my sofa, sipping tea. “He slapped me. In my own house. And you sat there and told him to control his wife.”
“Claire, please!” Vanessa sobbed, dropping to her knees. “The police are at our house! They are asking about the shell companies! They say I could go to jail for receiving stolen funds! I didn't know, Claire! I swear I didn't know the money came from your company! Adrian told me it was his bonuses!”
“You didn't know?” I smiled coldly. “Then how do you explain this?”
I tossed a tablet onto the coffee table. On the screen was high-definition security footage of Vanessa inside my master bedroom a month ago. The video clearly showed her opening my jewelry box, stealing my father's gold bracelet, and slipping it into her pocket.
Vanessa’s voice dried up. She stared at the screen, her face turning pale.
“You are thieves,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “The mother, the sister, and the son. You entered my life like parasites, trying to bleed me dry. You thought my silence was weakness, but it was just patience. I wanted to see exactly how far your greed would go.”
“Claire, please,” Diane begged, tears streaming down her wrinkled face. “We are family now! You can't put your husband's mother and sister in prison! Think of the scandal! What would your late father say?”
“My father,” I said, standing up and looking down at them, “is the one who taught me how to destroy wolves like you.”
I looked at the security guards. “Show them out. If they refuse to leave, call the police and add trespassing to their list of charges.”
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As the guards dragged the weeping Diane and Vanessa back into the elevator, I felt a profound sense of peace. The first part of the cancer in my life had been excised.
Now, it was time for the final blow.
