Chapter 7
Chloe Montgomery pushed open the grand front doors with a hesitant, sheepish expression, looking entirely unlike the arrogant socialite who used to sneer at my mountain-town upbringing. She was dressed in a simple black trench coat, carrying a battered leather weekender bag that signaled she hadn't come to party at a country club. "Jenna..." Chloe began, her voice cracking slightly as she took in the breathtaking expanse of the marble foyer and the sweeping double staircase. "Before you tell your guards to throw me out onto the street, I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with mom and Colby's embezzlement scheme."
I walked out from the study, standing atop the first landing of the grand staircase and looking down at my former sister-in-law with a neutral, unreadable expression. "Take off your coat, Chloe, and sit down in the formal parlor," I invited, my tone neither warm nor hostile. She followed me obediently into the sunlit parlor, sinking down onto an ivory velvet sofa and clutching her handbag like a shield. "I only found out about the offshore accounts three days ago when the bank notified me that our family trust was being frozen due to association," Chloe confessed, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Mom has been calling me nonstop from a burner phone at a cheap motel near the highway, screaming that I need to hire a lawyer for Colby."
"And what did you tell her?" I asked, pouring a cup of hot green tea from a silver pot and sliding it across the glass table toward her. Chloe let out a bitter, humorless laugh, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "I told her that she and Colby made their bed in a swamp of greed, and now they can rot in it," Chloe said fiercely. "Jenna, I know I never stood up to them the way I should have, and I watched them treat your mother like an indentured servant without saying a word. I am deeply, profoundly sorry for my cowardice." Her apology sounded genuine, stripped of the usual entitlement that defined the Montgomery bloodline.
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"Words are cheap, Chloe, especially in families like yours," I replied calmly, taking a slow sip of my tea. "If you genuinely want to distance yourself from their toxic wreckage, I suggest you take that flight back to Atlanta and change your phone number today." Chloe nodded slowly, accepting my terms without a single argument or protest. "I already booked my return ticket for tonight, Jenna... I just wanted to look you in the eye and thank you for finally holding them accountable," she whispered softly. She stood up, left her untouched tea on the table, and walked out of the mansion with her head bowed in quiet, humbling shame.
As Vance escorted her off the property, my phone buzzed with an urgent text message from my lead defense attorney downtown regarding the next morning's bail hearing. 'The judge reviewed the offshore wire transfers and the domestic abuse affidavits from your mother. Bail is going to be denied completely, and your ex is looking at immediate remand to county custody pending trial.' A cold, satisfying smile curved across my lips as I read the words, knowing that justice was moving forward with unstoppable, mechanical precision. The era of impunity for white-collar bullies and narcissistic abusers in our family had officially come to an end.
