Chapter 4 - The Reclaiming
The dining room was empty now,
save for the broken cake and the three people who looked like they had been hit by a tidal wave.
Grant sank into a chair,
his head in his hands.
"I have nowhere to go,
Claire."
"My mother's house is in the company's name too,
isn't it?"
I nodded.
"It is."
"But don't worry."
"I'm not heartless."
"I've paid for a week at a motel near the airport."
"For both of you."
"And Sloane,"
I said,
turning to the girl who was now looking at Grant with something close to disgust.
"I've sent your belongings to your parents' house in Ohio."
"I think you'll find they're expecting you."
Sloane stood up,
straightening her dress,
the "pregnancy" glow completely gone.
"I hate you,"
she hissed at Grant.
"You told me she was a pushover!"
"You told me I'd be a billionaire's wife!"
She didn't even look at him as she grabbed her purse and ran out the front door,
leaving her "true love" behind without a second thought.
Grant watched her go,
his expression vacant.
"She didn't even care about me,"
he whispered.
"None of them did,
Grant."
"They cared about the Hart fortune."
"They cared about the power."
"And you were the fool who let them think it was yours."
Vivian was sitting on the floor,
her expensive silk dress ruined by the blue frosting she had stepped in.
She looked small.
She looked old.
"What now?"
she asked,
her voice barely a whimper.
"Now,"
I said,
"you leave."
"You've spent forty years pretending to be royalty on someone else's dime."
"Now you get to see how the other half lives."
I walked over to the sideboard and picked up the receipt one last time.
"You know,"
I said,
"if you had just been kind,"
"if you had just treated me like a human being instead of an obstacle,"
"I probably would have taken care of you both forever."
"But you wanted a 'real' wife."
"And a real wife doesn't let people steal her life."
I signaled to the guards.
"Escort them out."
Grant stood up,
his legs shaking.
"Claire...
can I just have my watch?"
"The one your father gave me?"
"My father gave that to his son-in-law,"
I said.
"And since you are no longer that person,"
"I've decided to keep it."
"Consider it a down payment on the legal fees I'm going to rack up divorcing you."
He didn't argue.
He couldn't.
He walked out of the house he had tried to steal,
May you like
followed by his sobbing mother,
carrying nothing but a plastic bin and the crushing weight of his own failure.
