Chapter 3 - The Shed of Horrors
“Don't you ever touch her again,” I growled, stepping back from my mother.
Beatrice realized the entire high society of Chicago was watching her. She instantly morphed into the victim, forcing fake tears into her eyes.
“I have done my best, Richard!” Beatrice cried dramatically. “Her mother, Elena, is a drug addict! She stole the money and abandoned her! I’ve been trying to raise this feral child on my own, but she refuses to behave! She acts like an animal because of her mother’s bad blood!”
I looked at my mother’s diamond necklace. Then I looked at my daughter’s torn shoes.
“Chloe,” I said softly, ignoring my mother completely. “Where do you sleep at night?”
Chloe whimpered, terrified to speak in front of Beatrice. But she felt the protective grip of my arms.
“In the little shed behind the garage,” Chloe whispered, her tiny voice echoing in the dead silent ballroom. “Where they keep the lawnmowers. When it rains, my mattress gets wet. So I put a plastic bucket over my head to keep the water off me.”
The guests gasped in unison. A prominent senator’s wife covered her mouth in absolute disgust, stepping away from Beatrice’s table.
My mother’s face turned the color of ash. “She’s lying! She’s a pathological liar, just like Elena!”
I didn't scream. I didn't throw anything. The cinematic, lethal restraint in my voice was infinitely more dangerous.
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I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed my lead corporate attorney, putting him on speakerphone for the entire room to hear.
👉 What terrifying legal order is Richard about to unleash on his own mother?
