Chapter 8 - Tracing The Missing Hundred Thousand
The morning sun shone brightly through the kitchen windows, illuminating the stark contrast between the luxury and the corruption.
David looked down at Gwen, whose hands were still trembling as she held the glass of water he had poured her.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore, Gwen. I am going to make sure every single person who hurt you pays,” David promised.
Gwen looked up, tears of profound relief finally breaking through the heavy wall of trauma she had carried for years.
“I thought I would never see you again, David... I thought they were going to kill me in this house,” she sobbed quietly.
Margaret’s face twisted in bitter hatred as she realized she couldn't charm her way out of this catastrophic situation.
“You ungrateful little brat!” Margaret screamed, lunging across the kitchen island toward Gwen with her fingernails bared.
David moved instantly, stepping between them and shoving Margaret back so hard she stumbled into the pantry door.
“Touch her again and I will personally throw you both out onto the highway in your bathrobes,” David roared.
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The front doorbell rang loudly through the house, breaking the tense, suffocating atmosphere of the kitchen.
Two local police cruisers and an unmarked federal investigator vehicle sat parked neatly along the circular driveway.
