Chapter 7 - The Mistress Trembles
Marcus released his grip, shoving Richard backward onto the gravel where he scrambled to find his footing.
Richard clutched his bruised wrist, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon.
The expensive navy suit that had arrived pristine from Milan was now covered in pale gray limestone dust and gravel stains.
His slicked-back hair had fallen apart, damp strands of graying hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.
"Call the police, Richard!" Evelyn shrieked from behind the suitcases, her voice trembling with hysteria.
"Call the governor! Call the mayor! You played golf with the district attorney last month!" the old woman demanded wildly.
Richard fumbled frantically in his inner breast pocket, pulling out his custom gold-plated smartphone with shaking fingers.
"That's right... that's right, Mother," Richard stammered, his eyes wild with desperation.
"I’m calling the Chief of Police right now! I’ll have every single one of you thrown into federal prison for grand larceny!" Richard threatened.
Eleanor did not move a single muscle, her arms crossed gracefully over her ivory blouse.
"Go ahead, Richard," Eleanor said, her tone dripping with frigid amusement.
"Call Chief Harrison," she encouraged him smoothly.
"Tell him that the sole legal owner of parcel four-eight-two is executing a fully permitted structural relocation on private property," she said.
"Tell him the permits were signed off by the State Department of Transportation, the Environmental Board, and the Municipal Planning Commission three weeks ago," Eleanor added.
Richard froze, his thumb hovering trembling above the screen of his phone.
"What... what did you say?" Richard whispered, the blood draining from his face once more.
"You think I would organize an operation of this scale without every single legal document signed, stamped, and approved by the highest authorities?" Eleanor scoffed.
"The land beneath your feet is leased to your failing development firm, Richard," Eleanor explained, stepping forward with commanding grace.
"You own the dirt," she stated coldly.
"You own the grass, the weeds, and the empty space," Eleanor declared, pointing a finger at the ground.
"But the house itself—every brick, every beam, every window, and every memory—belongs entirely to the Eleanor Vance Living Trust," she announced.
"And as of five o'clock this evening, I am officially terminating my lease on your dirt," Eleanor said with a smile that chilled them to the bone.
Julianna let out a pathetic, whimpering sob, her knees visibly trembling beneath her tight red dress.
She looked up at the towering columns, the sparkling crystal chandeliers visible through the grand second-story windows, and realized the truth.
The lavish life of private chefs, infinity pools, and luxury galas she had traded her youth and dignity to steal was vanishing before her eyes.
"Richard, do something!" Julianna cried, grabbing his lapels and shaking him desperately.
"You promised me! You said you had hundreds of millions! You said we would live here like royalty!" she screamed at him.
"Shut your mouth, Julianna!" Richard roared, violently pushing her hands off his jacket.
"I am trying to think! I am trying to save my life, and you're screeching like a wounded bird!" he snarled at his mistress.
Julianna stumbled back, looking at Richard as if seeing him for the first time.
The handsome, all-powerful billionaire had vanished, replaced by a terrified, cornered coward covered in dirt and sweat.
Chloe stepped closer to her mother, wrapping her arm securely around Eleanor’s waist.
"You always thought Mom was weak because she was kind, Dad," Chloe spoke up, her voice ringing clear and steady.
"You thought she was blind because she chose not to fight your petty insults," Chloe said, glaring at her father with pure disgust.
"You forgot that Mom graduated top of her class in contract law before she ever met you," Chloe reminded him with fierce pride.
Ethan stepped up beside his sister, his tall frame blocking his father’s view of Eleanor.
"I’m resigning from the firm tomorrow morning, Dad," Ethan said coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth.
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"And I’m transferring my entire trust fund into Mom’s new logistics company," the son declared.
Richard stared at his children, feeling the final pillars of his constructed reality crumble into dust around him.
