Chapter 8: The Unmasked Leeches
I walked slowly across the lobby, my heels clicking rhythmically against the stone floor like a countdown timer. The two regional directors politely excused themselves, stepping away to give us privacy while keeping a watchful eye on the situation. I stopped five feet away from Nathan, looking him up and down with absolute indifference.
"You're making a public scene, Nathan," I said, my voice smooth and devoid of any emotion. "And you're trespassing in a private corporate facility." He scoffed, stepping forward only for Marcus to plant a heavy hand on his chest. "Claire, cut the crap right now," Nathan hissed, lowering his voice.
"You locked the accounts! Mom can't pay her bills, Vanessa is having a nervous breakdown, and our utilities are about to be shut off! Unfreeze the cards this instant!" he demanded, reverting to his default mode of entitled command. I tilted my head slightly, studying him as if he were a mildly interesting specimen under a microscope.
"Why should I?" I asked calmly. "Because I'm your husband! Because you owe this family everything!" he barked back, his mask slipping entirely. "Without us, you're just a cold, lonely woman who works herself to death!"
I let out a quiet, genuine laugh at his staggering delusion. "Nathan, for five years, I funded your parents' retirement, your brother’s lifestyle, your sister’s vanity projects, and your ego," I said clearly, letting every word sink into his thick skull. "And how did you repay that generosity on Sunday night? By standing by while your mother humiliated me, and then letting you physically assault me twice."
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The surrounding lobby grew deathly quiet. Marcus and the other guards tightened their grip on Nathan’s arms, their eyes hardening at the mention of physical assault. Nathan paled instantly, realizing the legal gravity of my words in a public space.
"That... that was a family matter," Nathan stammered, his bravado instantly evaporating into thin air. "It stays between us." I reached into my briefcase, pulled out a thick manila envelope, and tossed it onto the security desk. "It’s no longer between us, Nathan. That is the initial summons for a contested divorce, complete with asset recovery audits and documentation of domestic battery."
