Chapter 3: The Price of Arrogance
"The police?!" Victoria shrieked, her voice echoing shrilly through the high ceilings. "Are you insane? I am your wife! I am a member of the Beverly Hills Country Club! You're going to call the cops over a clumsy old servant?"
"You didn't just fire her, Victoria. You assaulted her," Ethan said, his fingers typing rapidly on his screen. He held the phone to his ear. "Marcus? It’s Ethan. I need you at the estate immediately. Bring a non-disclosure-violating criminal defense attorney, but not for me. For my wife. And call the LAPD chief. Tell him I have a domestic assault case at my residence."
He hung up before Victoria could speak.
"Ethan, stop this ridiculous joke right now!" Victoria demanded, her face turning pale as she tried to reach for his phone. "You can't do this to me! My father invested ten million dollars into your tech fund last year! If you humiliate me like this, my family will ruin you!"
"Your father’s ten million dollars is a drop in the ocean compared to what I own, Victoria," Ethan said coldly, walking over to Mary and gently lifting her frail body into his arms. He carried her toward the private elevator, completely bypassing his hysterical wife. "And as of tomorrow morning, I am pulling all Blackwood capital out of your family’s real estate firm. Let's see how long your father's pride lasts when his company files for Chapter 11 bankruptcy."
By the time the sun began to set over the hills, the grand foyer of the Blackwood Estate was filled with flashing blue and red lights. Two uniform LAPD officers stood in the center of the room, reviewing the high-definition security footage Ethan had willingly pulled from the hidden cameras in the chandelier.
The footage left no room for doubt. It clearly showed Victoria screaming, ripping the mop away, and violently pushing the elderly woman to the ground before threatening her with the metal handle.
"Mrs. Blackwood, you need to come with us," the lead officer said, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt.
"Don't touch me! Get your filthy hands off my silk!" Victoria screamed, kicking and thrashing as the cuffs clicked tightly around her manicured wrists. She looked at Ethan, who was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at her with nothing but cold indifference. "Ethan! You can't divorce me! We have a prenuptial agreement! If you leave me, I get half of this house!"
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Ethan’s personal attorney, Marcus, stepped forward, holding a legal folder. "Actually, Mrs. Blackwood, section fourteen of your prenuptial agreement states that any act of egregious criminal behavior or public domestic scandal voids the spousal support clause entirely. You are leaving this marriage with exactly what you brought into it. Nothing."
As Victoria was dragged out of the mansion, screaming insults into the quiet Beverly Hills night, the heavy mahogany doors closed behind her, shutting out her toxicity forever.
