Chapter 8 - The Office Trap
Beatrice stormed through the glass doors of my corporate executive office like she owned the entire skyscraper.
She was wearing a massive fur coat and oversized sunglasses, her face red with absolute outrage.
“Richard!” Beatrice shrieked, slamming her designer handbag onto my mahogany desk. “How dare you freeze my accounts! The bank humiliated me! Turn my cards back on this instant, or I am calling the press and telling them you abuse your elderly mother!”
I was sitting calmly in my heavy leather chair. I didn't say a word. I just slowly spun my chair around.
Beatrice stopped screaming.
Sitting on the leather sofa in the corner of my office, holding Chloe’s hand and wearing a stunning, tailored dress I had bought her that morning, was Elena.
All the color violently drained from Beatrice’s face. She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
“You...” Beatrice stammered, pointing a shaking, manicured finger at Elena. “What is she doing here?! Richard, call security! She’s a thief! She’s violating her restraining order!”
“There is no restraining order, Mom,” I said, my voice dripping with pure, lethal ice. “Just like there was no adultery. And there was no ten thousand dollars going to Elena’s care.”
Beatrice backed up toward the heavy office doors, hyperventilating. “You have no proof! You can't do anything to me!”
I pressed a button on my desk phone.
May you like
The side doors of my office swung open.
👉 What terrifying reality is about to crush the wicked grandmother?
