Chapter 3 - The Ambush at the Penthouse
Grant stormed into the penthouse, his expensive suit wrinkled, his tie loosened, and his face red with unhinged fury. He wasn't alone. Behind him marched his father, Arthur—a stern, intimidating man who served on the company’s board—along with two highly paid, aggressive corporate litigators. They stomped into my living room like an invading army, fully expecting to bully me into submission.
"You vindictive, psychotic bitch!" Grant roared, throwing his briefcase onto the glass coffee table. "Do you have any idea what you just did? The stock dropped four percent in two hours! The lenders are threatening to pull our credit lines! Call your lawyer right now and withdraw that paternity petition!"
I sat calmly in my velvet armchair, crossing my legs. Naomi walked out of the adjacent library, carrying a massive, heavy banker’s box. She set it gently on the dining table, her expression utterly devoid of intimidation.
"DNA is not vindictive, Grant," I said smoothly. "It is merely biological data. If you are so certain the child is yours, a swab shouldn't frighten you. Unless, of course, Sloane's timeline overlaps with someone else's."
Grant’s father, Arthur, stepped forward, pointing a heavy finger at me. "Evelyn, this has gone far enough. You threw a temper tantrum on live television and embarrassed this family. You will sign a retraction tomorrow morning, or these lawyers will ensure you walk away from this marriage with absolutely nothing."
I actually laughed. It was a cold, sharp sound that made Arthur’s hand falter.
"Arthur," I said, standing up. "You seem to be under the impression that this meeting is a negotiation. It isn't."
I nodded to Naomi. She opened the banker’s box and began pulling out perfectly organized, color-coded files. She spread them across the massive dining table for Grant and his lawyers to see.
"This is the lease for the townhouse in the West Village," Naomi announced, tapping a document. "Signed by Grant, but paid for using a corporate subsidiary account." She dropped another file. "These are the private flight logs to Aspen, St. Barts, and Milan. Falsified as 'client acquisition trips' but actually romantic getaways with Ms. Cole."
Naomi continued pulling out files, building a mountain of undeniable, irrefutable fraud. "Jewelry invoices. Medical bills for her prenatal care. Hidden wire transfers. Grant hasn't just been cheating on your daughter-in-law, Arthur. He has been systematically embezzling from the company for over a year."
Arthur’s face drained of color. He walked over to the table, his hands shaking as he picked up the corporate expense reports. The arrogant father-in-law who had just threatened to ruin me was suddenly staring at federal wire fraud.
May you like
Grant scoffed, trying to maintain his bravado, though sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead. "It was a temporary loan! I planned to repay the accounts before the end of the fiscal year! The board won't care once I explain it."
I looked at him, feeling a profound wave of pity for his absolute delusion. He truly believed his infidelity and his theft were just minor inconveniences. He still believed he was the untouchable king of the castle.
