Chapter 6 - THE INFIDELITY PROTOCOL
Two weeks later,
the audit took a dark turn.
Rachel called me at 11:00 PM on a Tuesday.
“I’m at The Rosewood,”
she said,
her voice low.
“Scott is here.”
“Is he drinking his sorrows away?”
I asked,
opening my laptop to check some files.
“No,”
Rachel said.
“He’s with a woman.”
“A very blonde,
very young woman.”
“And they are not acting like friends,
Avery.”
I felt a cold prickle at the back of my neck.
“Can you get a photo?”
“I already did.”
“Sent it to your phone.”
I opened the message.
There was Scott,
his arm draped around a woman in a red dress.
He was laughing.
He looked like he didn't have a care in the world.
He looked like a man who believed the inheritance was a sure thing.
“I recognize her,”
I whispered.
“She’s the assistant from the marketing firm he tried to start last year.”
“The one he said was 'just a kid'.”
I called Jerome immediately.
“We have proof of bad faith,”
I said.
“It’s more than bad faith,”
Jerome replied.
“It’s a violation of the 'good faith marriage' clause in the most blatant way possible.”
“If he’s spending estate-monitored time with another woman while claiming to want reconciliation,”
“he’s finished.”
I sat in the dark of my hotel room.
I thought of all the times he told me I was imagining things.
I thought of the perfume on his collar.
I thought of the late nights at the "office" that never turned a profit.
He hadn't just been waiting for the money.
He had been waiting for the freedom to be the man he always was.
The next morning,
I sent the photo to Beatrice Vance.
The response was a single line:
Meeting at the house. Thursday. 10:00 AM.
Thursday morning,
I arrived at the house I used to call mine.
Scott was there,
looking smug again.
He probably thought Beatrice was coming to release the funds.
He had probably told his blonde friend they would be millionaires by the weekend.
Beatrice walked in,
flanked by Jerome and a man in a suit I didn't recognize.
“Scott,”
Beatrice said,
her voice like ice.
“Sit down.”
Scott sat,
his smile faltering.
“Is this about the distribution?”
he asked.
“It is about the termination of your claim,”
Beatrice said.
She threw the photo onto the coffee table.
“You claimed reconciliation in your statement last week.”
“You claimed you were devoted to Avery.”
Scott went pale.
“That… that’s nothing.”
“She’s an old friend.”
“She’s a witness,”
the man in the suit said.
“I’m a private investigator hired by the estate trustee.”
“We have three weeks of footage,
Scott.”
“Including you promising her a trip to Paris with 'Evelyn’s gold'.”
Scott looked at me,
his eyes wild with rage.
“You did this!”
he screamed.
“You spied on me!”
“I didn't have to spy on you,
Scott,”
I said.
“You were always loud.”
“You were just too arrogant to think anyone was listening.”
Beatrice stood up.
“As of this moment,
your claim to the inheritance is revoked for cause.”
“The principal will be held in trust for Avery Collins,
as per the secondary provision.”
“And the house?”
Scott gasped.
“The house is a marital asset,”
Jerome said.
“And since you violated the good faith clause,”
“we are moving for an immediate court-ordered sale.”
“You have twenty-four hours to pack your things.”
“This time,”
Jerome added,
“don't bother with the gym bag.”
Scott collapsed into the sofa.
The king of the mansion was now a squatter in a house that was already being sold.
I walked out onto the porch.
The sun was bright.
The lawn was still not as green as it used to be.
But it didn't matter.
It wasn't my house anymore.
May you like
It was just a piece of property on a balance sheet.
And the balance was finally shifting in my favor.
