“Andrew, your little mouse is doing something behind your back!” she hissed nervously. “I saw a bank notification. There was a huge transfer. She’s definitely planning to steal from you!”
A minute later, Andrew stormed into the bedroom.
I was folding clothes.
My clothes.
The few things I had managed to purchase before our so-called family business came into existence.
“What are you plotting, you little snake?” he snarled, grabbing my arm above the elbow.
Pain shot through me, and a cry escaped before I could stop it.
By the next day, there would almost certainly be a dark bruise.
“What transfers? What money? You’re nobody here! A complete nothing! Dust beneath my shoes, do you understand?”
I looked up at him and arranged my features into the most frightened expression I could manage.
I even forced tears to shine in my eyes.
“Andrew, it’s only a deposit for a rental apartment… I’ve decided to leave on my own. I don’t want to stay here and watch the two of you… Well… You know what I mean. The courier is bringing the paperwork at six o’clock on Friday evening. I’ll take my passport and go. You won’t ever have to see me here again. I promise.”
He released me and wiped his palm against his trousers as though he had touched something filthy.
“That’s what you should have done from the beginning. For once, you’ve acted like a normal adult. Pack your rags and get out.”
Friday.
5:50 p.m.
Andrew and Claire were stretched comfortably across the sofa, glasses of expensive wine in their hands.
They were already discussing, quite openly, how they would throw out my bed after I left and turn my room into a large dressing room for Claire’s endless collection of clothes.
Margaret had come too.
Naturally, she claimed she was there only to make sure I did not take anything “that didn’t belong to me.”
The family silver spoons, for example.
At exactly six o’clock, a black car stopped beside the gate.
A man in an expensive, sharply tailored suit stepped out. In his hands, he carried a heavy leather briefcase.
“Oh, your courier has finally arrived,” Andrew drawled, without bothering to rise from the sofa. “Bring us your paperwork. We’ll sign everything, and then you’ll be free, Emma. You can fly off wherever you like.”
But the man was not a courier.
He walked calmly to the table, opened the briefcase, and laid several stamped documents in front of Andrew. Beside them, he placed an official extract from the property register.
“Good evening. My name is Daniel Reed. I represent Vector Capital. Mr. Andrew Collins, I’m here to formally notify you that ownership of this property, along with seventy percent of your bakery business, has been transferred to a new owner.”
Andrew choked on his wine.
Red droplets splashed across his white shirt.
Within seconds, all the color drained from his face.
“What ownership? What are you talking about? This is a mistake! The house belongs to my mother! Mom, explain this to him!”
Margaret went deathly pale.
Her chin began to tremble.
“Andrew… I… Do you remember March? You asked me to sign some papers for the bakery expansion. You said it wasn’t serious, only a formality… You said the bank needed them to approve a loan at a favorable rate…”
The attorney adjusted his glasses with unhurried precision.
“I’m afraid, Mrs. Collins, it was not a formality. You signed a guarantee secured against the property. Your son fell substantially behind on his obligations. In addition, our investigation uncovered transfers of the company’s operating funds into his personal accounts. My client later purchased the outstanding debt—your daughter-in-law, Emma Carter. The foreclosure procedure was completed at five o’clock this afternoon.”
Absolute silence filled the room.
It was so complete that we could hear Claire frantically struggling with the zipper of her suitcase in the corner.
The same suitcase she had never fully unpacked.
Perhaps her instincts had been warning her all along.
“What does that mean for me?” the “guest” asked quietly, inching toward the door.
“It means, Claire…” I took a step in her direction. “You’re welcome to take your promising businessman with you, along with all of his debts. You can take his mother too, if you’re feeling generous.”
I turned toward Andrew.
“And you never suspected that Claire had known my attorney for quite some time, did you?”
I was the one who arranged for her to be standing beside you at that conference.
I needed you to relax.
I wanted you to believe you were young again—irresistible, successful, and entitled to anything you wanted.
I needed you to lose interest in the business and stop checking the documents.
You brought Claire into this house yourself.
You gave her unrestricted access to your office.
While you were busy playing the triumphant lover, she photographed and copied the original papers I had never been able to reach.”
Claire straightened her skirt and suddenly smiled at me with genuine amusement.
“Emma, what about the rest of my fee, just as we agreed? I should get going. My ride is waiting nearby.”