Chapter 3: The Unraveling
"You already lost the house, Mother," Marcus said, pulling a legal document from his breast pocket. "When I realized what you were doing, I began the process of de-linking your assets from the family trust. The board of directors has been briefed on your embezzlement—which, by the way, is documented in the same recordings where you brag about framing my wife."
Beatrice’s jaw dropped. The power she had relied on—her money, her name, her influence—was being stripped away in real-time. She realized that Marcus had not been the weak son she had imagined; he had been a man working in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to execute her social and financial execution.
"The police are in the driveway, Beatrice," Marcus added, not needing to shout to hold the room's total authority. "They have the recordings, the forged documents, and the testimony from the nursery staff you tried to bribe. You are not taking custody of anything. You are leaving in handcuffs."
The nursery door opened. Two uniformed officers entered, their presence solemn and final. They didn't look at the expensive décor or the status of the woman before them. They looked only at the evidence of the abuse.
Beatrice shrieked, a high, piercing sound that lacked any of its usual aristocratic grace. She lunged toward Marcus, but he didn't flinch. He stood like a stone wall, shielding his wife and his child.
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"Get her out of my house," Marcus commanded.
As they dragged her out, Beatrice’s mask fell away completely. She screamed threats, promises of ruin, and bitter, hateful accusations, but Marcus just turned his back on her, focusing entirely on Elena and the baby.
