Chapter 7 - The Master of the House
"I allowed you and Claire to use it as your summer sanctuary," Eleanor continued, her voice slicing through the silent kitchen like a scalpel. "I paid the property taxes. I paid the incredibly expensive coastal maintenance fees. I paid for the new white marble countertops your wife demanded last year."
Claire physically stumbled backward, grabbing the edge of the kitchen island to steady herself. The silky white blouse suddenly felt suffocating.
"I let you pretend to your friends that you owned a two-million-dollar beachfront property because I wanted you to be happy," Eleanor said, stepping closer to her son. "But I always kept the deed locked in my safe."
Mark swallowed hard, his hands beginning to tremble. "Mom... wait. You were going to give us the house?"
"I was," Eleanor replied, tapping the heavy blue folder. "This folder contains the transferred title. I drove down here early to officially sign the property over to you tomorrow for your anniversary. A free, clear, multi-million-dollar asset."
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The sheer, apocalyptic magnitude of what they had just thrown away hit Mark with the kinetic force of a freight train.
👉 Mark realized he had just destroyed his entire inheritance over a weekend party, but Eleanor’s judgment was already finalized.
